


Never Eclipsed

by hwasasnails



Category: Kpop - Fandom, Mamamoo
Genre: Crime AU, F/F, Moomoo - Freeform, Multi, kpop, mamamoo - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2020-09-24 16:20:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20361472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hwasasnails/pseuds/hwasasnails
Summary: Moonbyul, a young woman battling the struggles of a not-so-glamourous life, stumbles into the clutches of Solar, the loan shark she owes money to.





	1. Smile

**TW WARNING!**: violence mention, small blood mention, anxiety mention

Why did smiling feel so_** intimate?**_

The question constantly rang through Moon’s head as she walked down the streets. Her fingertips had gone numb a **long** time ago, but still, as her eyes scanned storefront windows for a piece of paper with that_ two-word phrase_, she shuffled digits around in the confines of the pockets of her sweatshirt. It was a gift, and still, the mainly polyester did little to shield her from the bite of the wind. She’s got tunes of _somebody_ from _somewhere _moving through her earbuds—the result of plugging in a random playlist from spotify. Around every thirty seconds her cheap mobile phone would lose connection, stop and start, and even in the midst of her dread she still found a moment to feel happy. Each time there was a lift in the music, a moment that she particularly liked, her fingers would twitch instinctively with a memory of what once was, the corner of her lip pulling into this half sort of smile . . . but every time she caught the eyes of a bundled up stranger passing by, her face would fall, stomach would drop. Like she was in the third grade and said something **stupid **in front of her peers. Why was her happiness a **_secret? _**Why did that tiny burst of light feel like a phone ringing in the movie theatre—interrupting everyone else? The fall after her nibble of happiness always hurt more.

She was hungry, her pantry consisting of nothing but bunches of uncooked macaroni and rat shit here and there—her fridge nearly as vacant, excluding the moldy cheese pushed way back in the corner and various sauce packets. With only six dollars to her name, Moonbyul had sacrificed a loaf of bread, maybe even some peanut butter, for two rides on the train. It hadn’t been a hard decision, either. If she didn’t make this trip, chances were that it wouldn’t matter how cold she was, or how hungry, or in how much pain, cause she’d be dead.

**Death **was really the only thing that scared the brunette and to have come so **_close _**to it . . . .

Her mind had done a good job of blocking out most of the painful memories from only a few weeks ago, but the feelings she’d felt inside were the only things that couldn’t be covered up with distractions—or her scar. She remembers the _icy _feel of the blade against the bottom of her spine, and then the warm. The **blood**, the pain, the aches. _So much blood. _The laughter of **MEN **circled around her crippled form was a chorus to the only coherent thought she could remember—I **deserve** this. The straight line across her back was a reminder that she was a failure to herself, that she had earned this mark upon her skin, that she was unworthy of anything besides this_** scar.**_

Moon finds her thoughts shifting here and there, from the music in her ears, to her search for “**HELP WANTED**”, to the grumble of her stomach, to the ache in her back, but always in the front of her mind she kept the image of directions she’d looked up at the public library _maybe_ a few hours ago. Left on main, three blocks down, small korean place in between two, dollar pizza spots. She was tired, sluggishly shuffling down the road—in her expensive boots nonetheless, but the energy it would take to pick her heels up wasn’t something she could muster. And though what her body **REALLY **wanted was a place to sit _down_, she had to take care of business. The only person looking out for Moon was **Moon**.

She’d somehow convinced herself that three thousand dollars wasn’t that much—that she could get a car, get two jobs, pay the loan off easily and she’d be **GOOD**, she’d be _set_, at least for a little while, but these days things had a way of working out in the worst way.

Teeth chatter inside her skull as she pulls on the doors of the restaurant, immediately greeted by the strong scent of bulgogi. _Why_ did they have to meet in a restaurant? Her body shuddered at the thought of not eating for another day. Her eyes dart around the restaurant at patrons all around. She was told to look for a signal of some kind, that whoever she was looking for would be looking for her, too, but everyone seemed pretty . . . **_regular_**, however their pockets surely drooped to the floor.

She can feel all types of doubt circle inside of her, the looks she was getting in her all too casual ensemble for a place like this.

She’ll swallow, hands moving from their frozen state to comb brown locks, pushing them back behind her ears before crossing over her chest. She could feel eyes boring into her, even if they weren’t. She hadn’t even gotten up to the front desk yet and already she was messed up inside. Maybe it was from the hunger, or from the fear of what had happened before. Like clockwork, she feels a pulse from her back, pain running through her from her scar. _Will it ever end?_

Moonbyul finally approaches the desk, greeted by a long-haired woman. Her makeup was dark, well done, awfully sexy. If Moon wasn’t so out of it she’d have complimented the woman. Normally, she’d put a smile on her face, put out a hand to greet the other, but everything about the beauty seemed dangerous. Moon looked as the figure leaned leisurely on the front desk, hair tossed to one side, dark laced dress hugging her curves and her thighs.

Moon takes a deep breath, "I-I’m here to, uh . . . " 

What was she supposed to say? Moonbyul’s plans included nothing less than dropping to her knees and begging whoever was in charge to give her more time to make a payment—explain that, yes, she was two months behind, but times had been tough. Maybe they’d understand, but she couldn’t say that outright to the woman in front of her. In fact, from the cold expression the tanned beauty gave, Moon had a feeling she wouldn’t be all that understanding.

And before Moon can even attempt to form another sentence, the woman speaks. “—oh, you’re one of **THEM**.”

Moons eyes follow the woman’s hands as talon-like clams sweep through those beautiful locks. Moon wasn’t too sure what **THAT **meant, but she’ll nod anyways. “ i am. ” just as she makes a move to walk past the desk, expecting the hostess to lead her in the right direction, she’s stopped, palm in front of her slender frame. 

‘ There’s a dress code, you don’t look right, _**you**_ **_don’t enter. _**No matter what. ’ **Fuck. **Wasted six dollars.

**—**

**End of Chapter One**


	2. Who is Kim YongSun?

**TW**: No triggers

For the twenty-seven-year-old, it had been years since she’d felt like herself. In picking up her own business, Solar didn’t think that she would lose her own essence to the job. Often, she liked to think that she was **MADE** for something like this, that being in charge was what drove her _forward_ in life, but involving herself in this sort of business had isolated her to only a handful of close associates. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Many nights the woman would spend alone in her luxurious apartment and think,_ is this it?_ Sure, she had **wealth** and **power** and **authority**, but she was also struck with _loneliness_ and covered herself in a candy-coated **shell** of pleasantness that masked the nasty feelings she felt inside.

It was never supposed to be **_violent_**, it was just supposed to be lending her friends money here and there—_rare occasions_, with verbal **promises** to pay her back when they could, and for the most part they were honored, but eventually friends turning into acquaintances and then to _strangers_ … then soon enough those verbal contracts weren’t really **ENOUGH**, and when written contracts weren’t honored, Solar couldn’t just **NOT** get her money back. She doesn’t know when finances had become so important to her, but now it had become her whole life. She was a _ringleader_, whether she liked it or not, and there were people who **depended** on her, nearly **a hundred** people loaning from her, a group of bodyguards for her. There was too much in this for her to just throw it out. She **_had_ **to stick it through.

One of the only things that kept Solar grounded was her close relationship with her friend, Ahn Hye—_Hwasa_. Solar, even to this day, has to remind herself that going by anything but their aliases was all _**too** _dangerous. In private, sure, she was _Hyejin_, but practicing **Hwasa** was important, too. Their two families had lived near one another in an apartment complex, two doors down, and often the two girls would play a round of _Go Fish!_ In the basement of Solar’s father’s restaurant. Her elder, Yongsun **often** beat Hwasa (with the occasional round going in the opposite direction), but the connection underneath patrons in the dark dank underground _bound_ their two souls together. They were with one another.

Solar remembers when Hwasa was on the brink of maturity, just turned 18, and had gone for modeling audition after modeling audition, but was always slapped with disappointment. Often, Solar would consolidate her friend with some sweets from the restaurant, telling her it’d **_be ok_**—that the world couldn’t **handle** a beauty as strong as hers. That’d always make the younger smile soft, nudge Solar’s arm light. Hwasa had never been an overly affectionate friend. _Solar was ok with that._

So, when Solar’s father had **_passed_**, handing the restaurant off to her, the woman had made it her job to give Hwasa a job. Something she’d be **good** at. The woman wasn’t bad in the kitchen, or faulty as a server, but Solar thought that Hwasa’s talents could be used in a much smarter way as a _hostess_. Her alluring darkness would draw in customers, and the good food would keep them there. The restaurant had always held this certain … _class_ to it that came with Solar’s father. Every night he’d play piano until his arthritis ached too badly, and solar would sit not too far, singing along, _softly_, but never loud enough to pull attention, he was the main event and Solar loved it. She loved **_him_**. It felt like her and her father had been performing together for her entire life, so when he passed she felt like a piece of her died with him. Lovely live piano was replaced with the cheapest music she could buy online, broadcasted through _speakers_ throughout the establishment. It lacked **authenticity**, it made her whole life have this flavor of _fake_ without her father there with her. Hwasa helped, though. They _**never** _spoke about it, not directly, but a look from Hwasa could make anything feel better, even for a little while.

The bombshell placed directly at the front of the restaurant had helped to bring back some of the class to the restaurant, each night Hwasa dawning in a new specially picked ensemble that made her feel and look _**amazing**_. Her tip jar was overflowing every night from thirsty thirty-something year old’s who’d bring dates that never looked very happy to see Hwasa.

While Hwasa was very involved and in tune with the business that happened behind the scenes, the other main attraction — _the chef_ — was completely oblivious. Even if she’d heard whispers of rumors fluttering around her kitchen, Wheein turned a **blind ear**. She only lived to cook, she didn’t care about drama or dirty business. As long as she was in charge of the kitchen, she was happy.

It was through her father that Solar met Wheein, a cook’s convention or something like that had thrown the young woman into Solar’s path. A skilled professional, it **wasn’t** a hard decision to allow Wheein to join their team. She was _**fierce**_, but not without her soft moments, though Solar only ever got the luxury of seeing that side of the short-haired blonde woman during poker sessions. Thursday nights. Solar, Hwasa and Wheein could stay down there for hours, exchanging drinks, funny stories from the night. It made Solar feel young, gave her a sliver of what she used to be. This was the closest to hanging out she’d ever gotten to. The two women pulled _something_ out of Solar, this happy feeling, but it was always lacking just a tiny bit, never fully there. She sees it in Hwasa’s eyes, how the beauty looked at Solar and _**knew** _that she wasn’t all there, but couldn’t do anything about it. The two were too close to talk about it, though.

Life was **boring**. Solar had become numb to everything minus the nasty feelings she felt whenever someone had to be “taken care of” … and it’s not like she didn’t **KNOW** what it meant, or like she didn’t know that it was completely her call, it was the responsibility. She wanted to ask herself, _How dare you? You think you control life and death?_ But in her mind, she’d think_ Yes, yes I do. ._ . That was a side of Solar that **Yongsun** despised. The Solar that loved material things, pearls and jewels and fancy apartments, Louboutins, fancy bags, and **Yongsun** who _hated_ Solar for loving those things as opposed to loving the weekends her family would spend at the beach, wearing sandals that were so broken down they barely functioned, drinking cheap beers with her mother while her dad fished for their dinner.

And often, Solar had no choice but to **be** Solar … she couldn’t even **CONSIDER** being Yongsun for a moment because there was _business_ to be taken care of, people who **needed** her to be strong and powerful, and a **leader**, and Solar couldn’t pass that up.

She never directly deals with clients unless they **ASK** for her, so the first time Solar had ever seen Moonbyul was on the security cameras. She was able to **LAUGH** for a moment, watching as Hwasa turned the broken down looking woman away. The poor woman had bustled out of the door, a hand on her back. _Was she hurting?_ Solar couldn’t help but wonder. At first glance, Solar hadn’t found anything remotely interesting about Byul, but three days later she found herself rewinding the tape, taking in the sunken appearance of the woman. It was freezing outside, so _why_ was she wearing such a thin jacket? _Why_ did she look so sickly? _Why_ did she seem so poor when the boots on her feet **CLEARLY** cost a pretty penny? It opened a world of questions for Solar, and she was never really drawn to know someone before. She’d seen a multitude of lowlifes stumble in to try and pull a fast one, not pay her, but they’d always had the full appearance of **NEEDING** it. Moonbyul. _Those boots._ It was **different**. If the woman was struggling so hard, _why_ would she buy such pricey boots?

After refreshing herself on Moon’s loan, Solar was surprised to see a three thousand dollar (_plus interest_) balance on the woman’s account. Other patron’s stories didn’t interest her in the slightest, but she **wanted** to know Moon’s.

It was around a week later that she saw her again through the security cameras. Quite the change of appearance, too.

Solar had **EXPECTED** to see the woman dressed in some kind of a cheap knockoff of something that Hwasa would wear, but instead, she sees … _a suit._ Velvet-esque red material dawned her body, silky black undershirt underneath. Though both appeared to be _slightly_ too big for her, Moonbyul looked … _handsome_, but upon further inspection, there they were **AGAIN**... _those boots._ Why was she wearing those boots? How had she gotten such a **NICE** looking suit, when before she looked nearly homeless?

Looking at the woman only gave Solar **more** questions, but she doesn’t say anything to Hwasa. Instead, she’ll wait for the mysterious curiosity to make her way back her to Solar. She watches as Hwasa gives a slow nod of approval, letting Byul past her station and pointing her in the right direction.

Through habit, Solar’s fixing her appearance, pulling dark hair over one shoulder, adjusting red dress _slightly_ as she took a seat at the front desk.

Solar hadn’t ever considered the fact that she may look like some sort of a receptionist, she just **LIKED** greeting her guests. With two bodyguards close by, Solar’s gotten used to ignoring the two beefy men, eyes fixed on the door as she waited for the other. She’s biting her lip lightly, sacrificing the _perfection_ of her makeup as she watched the door to their little nook open slowly.

And she was usually_ so good_ at keeping a straight face, putting a palm out and greeting her subordinate in a professional way, but the second their eyes meet, the corners of Solar’s lips pull up into this smile. True to her pseudonym, Solar’s grin could light up a room—and it **does**, the suited woman smiling _right back_. There’s this air in the room, this _**weird** _lightness to the entire thing that throws Solar off guard. It was the familiar feeling of looking at an_ old friend_, but Solar barely knew anything of the woman beside the fact that she owed her money. The way her opposite smiled, eyes closing, _dimples_ in her nose popping, it was so … **endearing**. Solar found it hard to drop even the softest of smiles in the presence of the other. Though her insides were weak, her voice is strong.

‘ I’m Solar. ’ she stands, heels clicking as she walked around to stand face to face with the woman. Though shorter, her shoes have made up for the height difference. She’ll outstretch her hand, quickly feeling the warmth of the other woman’s palm, a cool-toned voice sighing out as they shook hands, breaking contact just as she says a,

“ I _**like** _your boots. ”

—

**End of Chapter 2**


	3. Cheap and Dirty

**TW**: Anxiety. Panic attacks.

Moonbyul had never really been a fan of stealing. Sure, she understood that when desperate times came it was a _necessary_ evil, but she still beats herself up inside about it. Even in her state of need, the brunette felt as if there would always be someone who needed it more—why did **SHE** get to have these things and not others?

Theft had been the latest thing to ruin Moon’s life, and yet she couldn’t seem to escape from the habit’s clutches. _How else was she to find an article of clothing appropriate enough for a nice place like this?_ But this time Moon would be **smart**, stick only to thrift shops. Risking stealing from a really nice place wouldn’t turn out as well as it did the_ last time._

She had managed to swipe an **entire outfit** from the men’s section, shoes included—due to men’s being closer to the door—but the woman only fit select items. The silk across her back was baggy, most of it tucked into the waistband of the red suit pants she wore. She was able to sell the shoes on the streets for a few bucks—just enough for her to ride back over here, and she felt _confident_. Well, more confident than usual. Now, at least, it doesn’t pain her to look the beauty at the front desk in the eyes.

Moon found it still to be **intimidating**, looking at the woman. She gives her eyes a break for a second by searching for a nametag, **Hwasa**. _Even her name was pretty_. Moonbyul takes in the woman’s good looks, the dress she wore, **bright** orange with fuchsia flowers adorned on the fabric. _How daring_, Moon thought, _to wear such a piece_. Barefaced, Byul takes in the absolute perfection of Hwasa’s makeup—all of this in the few moments of approaching the desk, but it’s plenty of time for Moon’s self-loathing to fester.

She can’t remember the last time she’d felt like anything _close_ to beautiful. Moon had covered the mirrors in her apartment with old t-shirts, never wanting to even catch a glance at the person she once knew. She knew that attempts at makeup or self-care would just be a coverup for the _**ugliness** _underneath, like putting foundation over rocks. _I can’t fix ugly,_ she’d often think, _So what’s the point?_ And even in her new suit she still felt cheap, **dirty**, _wrong_ … _especially_ next to Hwasa, but nonetheless, Moon gets the stamp of approval and directions towards the back.

She walks through the restaurant, her head down as she tried to move as quickly as possible to get away from their eyes. Maybe red wasn’t the **BEST** color to pick if she didn’t want to pull attention, but stealing had its limits.

And upon seeing Solar, Moonbyul had immediately thought she was the receptionist. The way she greeted her, the professional dress, all of it **screamed** front desk. It’s now that Moonbyul realized she didn’t know **WHO** she was looking for. She’d never even met the person she had borrowed money from, but she’d met their _goons_. Her eyes flashed away from Solars for a split second and onto the two bodyguards around her, one unfamiliar and one’s glance causing shivers to run down Moon’s spine. And yet that scared feeling doesn’t last when she catches Solar’s smile. How open the little woman was. Smiling like this had been something Moonbyul was afraid of everyone seeing, but Solar was so … _free_. She can’t help but _smile back_, feeding off of the positive energy. The wave of fear inside of Moon rests for a minute in this small interaction, shaking the woman’s hand. Moon bites her lip at the compliment, she was never really good at taking those, but she mumbles a, “oh—_thank you_.”

“It’s this way.”

Moonbyul nods once, ready to follow behind what appeared to be a receptionist towards the back. Without their eyes locked it’s much easier for Moonbyul to feel anxious again, especially with the looming presence of **masculinity** nipping at her heels.

Solar leads the two of them back behind a closed door, into a well-lit office. It wasn’t too large, and the bright lights compensated for the lack of natural beams that would usually come with windows, but it was nice nonetheless. The hardwood desk was covered with knickknacks, a couple of water bottles, a bowl of candy. She’s taking a seat, the plush of fabric sliding under the leather of her chair.

Moon breathes out, “ So when— ” she’s cut off mid-sentence as eyes focus on the woman taking the seat across from her. And just as soon as she’d relaxed, Moonbyul’s tensing up again, eyes widening with realization. _Oh. **Solar**_. Already, she’d let her guard down with just a smile. Dropping to her knees and begging for her life would look fake if she made any attempt to do so now, so that idea was blown.

She’s gnawing on her bottom lip as dark eyes stared into her opposite’s.

_ **Fuck**._

_ She’s gonna **kill **me._

_ I should say something._

_ What if I say the wrong thing?_

_ What if she **WANTS **me to say the wrong thing?_

It’s undeniable that the two women had an energy that aligned, but now with the very obvious power separation, how was Moonbyul supposed to **EVER** feel comfortable again? The only thing that felt like a safe thing to assume was that the shorter woman was her **enemy**.

She doesn’t even realize that she looks like a nervous mess, fingers picking at her nails, one leg quickly bouncing up and down as she stared at Solar.

And none of this is particularly new for Solar, she’s used to seeing nervous people, but something about how shaken Moon was, was a little bit … different. There was an **absence** that had shifted into Moonbyul’s dark eyes that not only intrigued Solar, but _worried_ her— and yet she still finds a way to relax, sitting back in her seat, legs crossing as she inspected the woman coolly.

It’s a few moments and still … _nothing_ is said.

It’s in this time that Solar starts to feel a little bit uncomfortable, but Moon was starting to lose herself. With every passing second she was having more and more trouble breathing. She felt like her chest was collapsing in on itself, palms growing sweatier by the second. “ Uhm—” she chokes out, breathing increasing, chest raising quickly as tears welled up in her eyes. She felt as if she’d pass out any second.

And it had been so **long** since she’d had a_ panic attack_—years, even. Moon didn’t even know she was this afraid, that being in front of Solar scared her this much. The thoughts of death run through her head and all Solar can do is watch, inexperienced, unsure of how to help or if Moon even **NEEDED** help. “ _Are you okay?_”

Solar was in no way prepared to deal with someone like this. She’d never witnessed someone go through … whatever this was. Moonbyul wanted to sprint out of the room, but knowing that the man who’d stabbed her was waiting right outside kept her in her place.

With no response, Solar stands, maternal instincts kicking in as she attempted to help the woman. Sighing, she’ll grab a water bottle off of her desk, sliding it in Moonbyul’s direction, “ Do you need something to drink? ” but the taller doesn’t respond. **Shit**. What was she supposed to do? Maybe she was _sick_? Solar will grab her phone from inside her desk, paging the kitchen and ordering something from the kitchen. Maybe she hadn’t eaten in a while? Maybe it was too hot in here?

And it’s true, while the heat building up between Moon’s attack and the warm outfit she wore, even Moon wasn’t sure what could cure her. “ Is there something I can **_do_**? ”

Moon raises her palms, wiping tears from her eyes before laying her head on Solar’s desk. She’s panting shutting her eyes as she tried to get a grip. She had to regain some kind of control again, get herself together. How EMBARRASSING. The invasive thought doesn’t help, Moonbyul only squeezing her eyes tighter as she finally grabbed at the water bottle. She’ll sit up only a little bit, sipping slowly at the not very cold water. She can feel herself slowly starting to calm down. And it still isn’t okay, not by a long shot, but she’s stopped crying. Her breathing doesn’t slow, though, still stuck in the middle of her panic attack when she feels a palm on her back. Her spine straightens as she whips around.

“ —**_don’t fucking touch me !_** ” she snaps at Solar, pulling away from the woman and standing, spilling the water bottle in the process.

She’s quick to step out of the growing puddle, dodging the water bubbling out of its plastic confines, in an attempt to save her boots. She can see the surprise and hurt on Solar’s cheeks, but can’t find it inside of her to care as she wrapped her arms tight around herself. .

With her attempts, she can’t seem to get comfortable, stance altering every few seconds. She felt uncomfortable with everything, with the room, with Solar, with the situation. She just wanted to be away from it all, she wanted to be comfortable, happy, or happier. She hadn’t felt good in so long. Sure, short bursts would come here and there, but she wanted something lasting that didn’t get her into situations like this.

It felt like _forever_, just the two of them sitting there, Solar desperately wanting to help and Moonbyul refusing silently, and the silence is finally broken by two knocks on the door. “ Come in “

Short blonde hair follows behind silver platter as Wheein, the head chef, brings in a tray for Moon. She places it on Solar’s desk, eyes going over the wet that coated solar’s floor. Wheein’s eyes will search the room, grabbing some paper towels before wiping up a little bit of the mess. And she can feel the tension lingering in the air so she’s quick to move towards the door. “ Call me if you need anything” She’ll call back to Solar before leaving the two alone again.

Moonbyul stares at the platter, Solar stares at Moon. It’s odd—not ever before has Solar so _desperately_ wanted to know what was going on in someone’s mind. She just wanted some **confirmation** that she was okay, that whatever business they’d be conducting could be continued, or not, she was fine with it either way.

And why did Moon seem so hesitant to take the food? It was _good_—Solar knew that for a fact. Never had she eaten something from Wheein that wasn’t really good. “ It’s not bad. ” she mumbles, nodding towards the platter. “ She’s our head chef, she wouldn’t give you anything bad. ”

Moon’s paranoid brain was convinced that underneath that platter may be something delicious, but also something deliciously dangerous. People who were quick to hurt her just weeks ago also seemed like the type to poison her. She’s swallowing, scents from the platter trailing her way. Though she was suspicious, she was still very, very hungry. It had been days since she’d had anything besides water, so it’s not that she isn’t **TEMPTED**. She’s just … _wary_. It’s in their silence that Solar wonders what may be the problem.

“ Aren’t you hungry? ” . . .** No answer.**

“ . . . are you okay? ” Moon shakes her head, _no_.

Solar sucks her teeth. _Who did Moon think she was?_ Pride at a time like this? She breathes out.

“ You know it’s rude to ignore someone. “

“I’m not ignoring yo—”

“—well you aren’t _speaking_ to me either.”

She **HATED** this, not being in full control. Somehow, without even trying, Moon had used her panic attack against Solar. Solar felt like she couldn’t touch Moon, like any harsh words sent her way would start up another attack. Moon had Looked at Solar, known who she was and was sent into a state of anxiety.

“ I’m sorry.”

Solar doesn’t respond to Moon’s apology. What exactly was she apologizing for? She’ll clear her throat, walking towards her desk and lifting the cover. “ It’s **good**—I eat Wheein’s food everyday.” The meal in front of her is a familiar one, one she’d personally approved for the restaurant. Potatoes, steak . . . there was no way moon **DIDN’T** want it. Solar will pick up the fork, eating a small bite of potatoes before offering the fork in Moon’s direction.

Moon’s eyes focus on the fork, swallowing **hard**. If Solar ate it, it should be fine, **right**? _Slowly_, she’ll step towards Solar, taking the fork.

The tips of their fingers touch and Solar snatched her hand away, like a spark of _**lightning** _between them. It shocks both of the women, but neither of them say anything, both taking their seats.

And she **TRIES** to look like a normal person, she tries to eat slowly but the second she swallows that first bite it’s over, fork moving quickly as she scarfed down the meal in front of her.

Solar watches, fork going back and fork, water bottle making that little crunch noise whenever Moon took a drank and Solar can’t help but watch. It was so … _**fascinating** _to her, seeing someone suffering. She’d never seen it first hand, watched someone eat what could be their last meal for a long while.

“ I’m _sorry_ for yelling.”

**Disgusting**. Solar’s quick to look down on the other, _talking with her mouth full._ She’ll clear her throat again, “It’s okay.”

As moon clears her throat, finished and sitting back she speaks again. “ So, I’m here for ... ”

“ —you want an extension?” she’s heard it before. Moon looks too ashamed to answer, but it confirms Solar’s suspicion. Solar will search for her gaze like she was ingraining the thought of Moon in her head. Already the two had a relationship completely out of the ordinary, Solar having so much **power** over Moon, but also feeling _restrained_ by the thought of upsetting the woman. It made it feel impossible for her to say no to Moon.

  


“ . . . I can give you a month. “

—

End of Chapter Three


	4. Grub and Grovel

**TW**: masturbation

For a long time, it had felt like Moon’s self-hatred had hit a glass ceiling, like she couldn’t feel any _more_ pathetic, but the ordeal at the restaurant had proved her wrong. She’d unintentionally exposed her most **private** moments with her enemy and Moon was … _embarrassed_. Though she’d gotten what she came for when leaving the restaurant, Moon was still somehow unsatisfied._ What exactly did she want from the visit?_ Maybe what the brunette craved was the feeling of a sliver of dignity, but she’d instead given that up and then some—surrendered her pride **completely** over to Solar.

She’s sat on the floor of her apartment, thin blanket draped in her lap as she scrubbed at her boots, working in _little_ circles to scrape off any dirt that coated its edges, with the echoes of a Netflix show playing in the background, but she can’t seem to focus on it, mind elsewhere. Her hands ached, nails low from biting, fingertips pruney from the hour of cleaning. She’s jumping every few moments when the scurry of a rat blows past her ear. And she’s lived her for so long, she _should_ be used to it by now, but the thought of the rodents still scared her. Moon places her boots down carefully for a moment, hands pushing up the sleeves of her shirt. She’s licking her lips in an attempt to distract herself from the hunger pangs coming ever so often. It had been _a few days_ since she’d had the meal at Solar’s restaurant, but still, she smelled the ghost of the steak in her nostrils, could practically _taste_ the tenderness—these thoughts **don’t** help.

And,_ like always_, when she rises to her feet Moon’s eyes go over the keyboard pushed into the corner of her living room.

There used to be days where all she would do is play, scribble notes onto sheets of paper, hope that one day she could be good enough to play **FOR** someone. She remembers the countless little tunes she would hum out when grocery shopping, beats she would tap against the shopping cart. And though not _particularly_ gifted herself, she’d always thought it would be nice to have someone to sing for her. She can stare at the black and white keys and feel nothing, those longing thoughts shoved down deep inside of her, but there’s still a silent scream for her to pick it up again. Why she’d ever stopped, Moon can’t remember, but as each day passed it seemed harder to return. Like she was waiting for something to push her to it again.

She raises her arms over her head, stretching fingertips, standing on tippy toes in an attempt to lightly graze the ceiling, but of course, at her measly five foot five, the woman doesn’t come near to touching it. She can laugh at herself for a moment, a scratch of innocence _lingered_ inside the woman, it seemed.

As she lowers her arms, sighing out she’s greeted by a foul stench. Upon inspection, neck craning to sniff at her pits, Moon pulls back in **disgust**. _How long, _exactly_, had it been since she’d showered?_ Laying in bed was starting to take it’s toll on Moon and even if she didn’t feel good enough to do anything **SHE** thought was productive, maybe she could start with a _shower_.

On her trek to her bedroom, Moon’s tying her hair up, yanking off her top and pants, smelly articles disgarded on the ground as her eyes searched for her things. Shampoo, conditioner and bodywash are found with ease, but Moon can’t find her loofa. It was some cheap thing she’d gotten from the dollar store but it was the closest thing to an exfoliator moon could manage. Bra and panties, moon tiptoes past piles of laundry, the lines between dirty and cleaned _blurred_. She could’ve sworn she’d set out to take care of it days ago but it must’ve been **another** abandoned project.

And she’s almost certain she sees the corner of the loofa stuffed somewhere when she hears a **knock** on her door. Moon freezes in her place, going completely silent before she tiptoes towards the door. Sure, she’d see who it was, but that didn’t mean she would **ANSWER** the door. Arms naturally cover her bra covered breasts as she slowly worked her way towards the front of the apartment, careful not too make any noise and avoiding any particularly creaky floorboards. One eye squeezes shut as Moon peers out through the peep hole only to find … no one there. **_Strange_**. Maybe she’d go out and check again later. She had to pick up her mail anyways so if there was nothing out ther it wouldn’t be a waste of a trip. Once certain that she was once again completely alone, she slumps. Before she can escape back to her bedroom, though, she spots it. Hanging from what was supposed to be a coat rack was her loofa. _How the fuck did it get out here?_ A question for another time. She snatches the rough fabric before disappearing into the bathroom.

Moonbyul has gotten used to taking short showers. She knew that if she really spent her time in here that the water would run cold and she’d feel sick for the rest of the time. And it wasn’t like she was all too **THRILLED** to have to stare at her body, so it worked for her. Her routine was grinded into her, the woman out of the shower in less than fifteen minutes.

Wrapped in a towel, Moon’s flopping onto her bed, _grace_ being something she’d lost a long, long time ago. Thankfully, it doesn’t take her long to find her brush, yanking out knots here and there. And she knows she should feel anew—_refreshed_, but she just feels … **clean**. Somehow there was a difference. Still, though, Moon likes the way her skin feels after taking a shower. She likes applying a _dollop_ of lotion to her legs, likes the feeling of caring for herself even when she can only bring herself to do so ever so often. And it’s really only now when she’s fresh out of the shower that Moon can even fathom the thought of touching herself.

But then again—it isn’t _really_ a thought. It’s more of a split second in her brain where she thinks: **who is it hurting?** And then her hand is between her thighs and she’s relaxing for a _moment_ … until she **can’t** relax and she has to bite down on her pillow so not to alert the neighbors of _**exactly** _what it was that she was doing.

And she keeps her towel on, shuts her eyes, thinks of things even though her laptop was only a room a way ( though to be honest things like porn never really intrigued her ). It’s mostly the usual. _Parts_, not faces. Lips, _curves_, **thighs**, hickies—and the latest additon. Fuscia and orange floral fabric, tanned skin, dark makeup, long _flowing_ black hair. **Hwasa**.

Her eys snap open then. _Weird_. Moon hadn’t ever had the desire to lust after someone—not in her fantasies anyways. Attaching a name to her desire had ruined the moment for Byul, so she stands, lettiing the towel fall as she cleaned herself up. Unintentional _yearning_ was left inside of Moon as she scrubbed her hands, an odd layer of shame building up even more.

It’s then that she remembers what had happened before her show and her attempt at some time to herself; a knock at the door. She pulls on some form of pajamas, leaving out a bra because who was she seeing anyways? She walks towards the door, pulling it open and locking it, not bothering with shoes, before she’s outside. Her eyes briefly look around at the other doors to other apartments before looking down at the sound of crackling. There are around four plastic bags at her feet and she’s suspicious for a moment. From first glance, she could tell there were groceries inside and she **KNOWS** she shouldn’t, someone probably just forgot a few bags before going into their place, but hadn’t someone knocked? _Maybe_ these were for her.

Even without confirmation, Moon’s quick to go back inside, bags inhand as she fought of the urge to _smile_. **Food**. She didn’t care what it was, it was **food**. Dumping them out on the kitchen table, Moon’s hands move quickly to sort through the masses. Ramen, eggs, milk, bread—slightly smushed, but that was alright, plus a few other things. Dry goods like pasta, sauce, even cheese—_good_ cheese too, not some knockoff kraft singles, **boarshead**. _Jackpot_. And she can’t hold it back anymore, a satisfied smile resting on her cheeks as she started to fill her cupboard, stack things in her fridge. Cans of tuna are pushed in nicely. She’s onto her last few items when she spots a piece of paper. Probably the receipt. She’s picking it up, crumbling the paper, but she hesitates to toss it out when she feels the texture. Sure it’s shape was that of a recepit but the paper quality was much denser. She uncrumbles it. “_For you. Eat._” it reads.

Moon can feel the paranoia seep back into this glorious moment. What if this was poison? And maybe it’s because she’s just showered, but Moon doesn’t succumb to the negativity … to entirely, anyways. _If I’m gonna die, I won’t die hungry. _

—

As the end of the month drew closer and closer the impending doom of a** Rent Payment** krept closer and closer to Moonbyul. Still unemployed, the woman was unsure of how to take care of her business. It seemed like **NOWHERE** was hiring, like nobody wanted her. She had no job. She had no money. The only way she got around was on her **feet**. The food delivered a week ago hadn’t killed her, _not yet anyways_, so Moon considered it an act of kindness, but with that came a lot of questions. Who’d done it? _Why?_ How did they know her address? If it was any indication from the glares she got in the elevator, her neighbors had nothing to do with it, so _who?_

It’s as if Moon can’t stay in the moment. Though on her way to Chandel, _Solar’s restaurant_, it was as if she was still back at home, in her bathtub. She’d successfully taken a bath today, though she’d rested in the water way past pruney. She smelled of _soap_ and _lotion_ and Moon felt good, maybe that’s why she wanted to stay in that time.

She’d left her house with a **plan**, with a task on her mind that could easily go one of two ways. She’s shivering a little as she walked down the street, less from the cool breeze and more from her damp hair as her feet took her down the road. And this time she wasn’t wearing some flashy suit or some impressive dress, no, just jeans and a t-shirt, blue flannel, so Moon was **EXPECTING** to hear something. Funnily, though, she felt almost a little bit _confident_. A little bit less scared of Hwasa. Maybe it was because of the woman’s appearance in Moonbyul’s **fantasies** that made her seem _smaller_. Chin up, she pushes through the door and righ tup to hwasa. Her looks are as striking as ever, purple pants and top ensemble with some kind of sheer material, tulle maybe? Moon was unsure, eyes locking with the other’s as she spoke. 

“ I need to speak to Solar. “

Hwasa looks down on Moon … _easily_, as if she was a **bug** to step on. “ You can’t come in dressed like that.”

“ Then tell her to come out. “

“ Solar’s very busy. “

“ So am I. “

“ I won’t call her. “

“ It’s an emergency. “

Their back-and-forth lasts no more than a few seconds, but after Moon’s final words, Hwasa is pressing a button, paging Solar.

It’s then that Moon gets nervous **again**. Though Hwasa’s immense beauty had lost its _edge_, Solar’s power over Moon still shook the woman to her core. It’s now that she’s reminding herself of the **embarrassment** she’d faced the **LAST** time her and Solar had come face to face.

Graced by the presence of another beauty, Moon’s standing up straight. Solar struts in. Moon can’t help but admire the woman’s walk. So … _sensual_, like she was putting on a show. Fleshy pink toned gown flowing nicely behind her, Moon’s practically enchanted, mind and body torn between fear and swooning. As scary as she was, Solar was beautiful. Moon swallows hard.

Her eyes are glued to the floor when Solar finally stands before her and she can’t help but mumble, especially after following the harshness of Solar’s, “ What do you want? _I was busy._ ”

“ … do you have any open positions? ” she speaks up. Moon’s paranoia kicks in again, convinced Hwasa was staring them down, though in all truth the lioness was more concerned with scrolling on her phone.

“ _What?_ ” Solar speaks.

Had she not heard her? Moon almost repeats herself, licking her lips to start the sentence again, but something about saying it again felt stupid. Before she can even think, Moonbyul drops to her knees. She won’t look up to see SOlar’s reaction, hands clasping together as she begged. “** I need a job.** Any job—_anything_, i’ll clean bathrooms, i’ll sweep floors, i’ll do _anything_. I just need money,_ i need it._ ” she’s speaking before she can think, hands unclasping to grasp at the fabric of Solar’s dress. Solar pulls away a little, downward glance silently urging Moon to let go. “ I can start paying back the **debt**, too. “

Solar feels this surge of _embarassment_ rise up inside of her. It was bad enough that the woman had showed up unannounced, that her outfit didn’t fit the dresscode, that she’d had this conversation in **PUBLIC**, but to be on her knees? Begging her? Mayb ebefore Solar could’ve taken pity on Moonbyul’s desperate behaviors, but not now. What, was Solar to oblige because they had an audience? She could feel the stares from patrons burn into the two of them, Moon on her knees, Solar standing, visibly angry. Solar’s lingering memory of a Moon she wanted to protect had been slashing into one thought: she’s pathetic. The silence fills them up then squeezes the life out of both of the women as Solar’s cheeks burned red hot. Embarassed like this. In her own restaurant.

“ You’re embarassin— “ Solar has to instruct herself to calm down, swallowing a gulp of air as she tried to contain herself. How dar she? Embarass her and beg for things? It didn’t work that way. “ **Apologize**. ” she instructs the woman, palm tugging away th efabric of her dress from Moon._ Don’t fucking touch me._ It’s almost a mocking thought.

“ No.” Solar can’t believe her ears. **No?** No one said no to her .. not _ever_. She frowns. “ Apologize for embarassing me. “ she repeats herself, but Moon shakes her head.

“ I needed you to hear me. “

And before, maybe Solar could’ve been talked down, but **blatant** disobedience? It was times like this that the gentle YongSun was completely blacked out by the harshness of Solar. Had Moon _forgotten_ what Solar had, had done just a few months ago? Was the knife in her back now a _distant memory?_ She shakes her head. Solar wouldn’t put up with the disrespect any longer.

“Get **out** of my store.”

—

End of Chapter Four


	5. The First Touch

**TW**: no triggers! 

After the first day it had arrived, Moon hadn’t really driven herself crazy with the thought of _who _might’ve sent her the food. It was a regular drop off, **once a week**, and one she didn’t really _feel _like challenging. She was okay for a little while … which wasn’t **always **something the woman could say.

Oddly, though, Moon had this brooding feeling inside that if she **DID **find out the identity of her caretaker that the drop-offs would **stop**.

After her and Solar’s _altercation _at the restaurant, a week had passed and …** no food**. So it _must’ve _been Solar, **right**? Either way, the woman has convinced herself that the restaurant owner had taken some sort of pity on her, had hired someone to drop it off, or maybe even brought it herself. Moonbyul’s unsettled by the fact that her fate rested in the woman’s hands. The thought was _taxing_. Would that mean she had to apologize just to get food? It seemed like a petty trade, a **selfish **one. And Moon doesn’t **EXPECT **the woman to give her anything but letting someone starve felt like _cruelty_. She’s left unsure of when the next drop off would be.

Moon will admit that she’s gotten a little _too_ comfortable, that her efforts to find a job have **faltered **slightly. She no longer roamed the streets, eyes peeled for a “**hiring**” sign. It was like she could take a break from struggling for a while, like a little vacation where she could sit at home all day. And though the sluggish ways were** no good **for her in the long run, they gave Moonbyul a fit of _clarity_. It was better than freezing her ass off as she shuffled down the sidewalk. The past few weeks have reminded Moon of her mother, how _horrified _the woman would be to see that Moon was taking such bad care of herself. It smeared on this **guilty **feeling inside of Moon’s hollowness, but the food had wiped some of that away.

That was all gone now, though.

She wasn’t stupid, she hadn’t **DEVOURED **everything, so she wasn’t starving _exactly_, but there wasn’t nearly as much food as there usually was. This turn of events wasn’t for the worst, though. In fact, it was enough motivation for Moon to get out of bed, to go out and start looking for work again. Her quiet and polite manner was good for job interviews, but she never really got to that point. It always seemed to happen that the spot would get filled right after she applied anywhere, but she wouldn’t give up. Thinking of her mother _motivated _her, but ultimately she wanted to prove to **Solar**, even if she wasn’t watching, that Moon **didn’t **need her. That she could go on without the help of the woman.

She’s thrown on her jacket, carefully pulled on her boots, bundled up as much as she possibly could as she headed towards the door. She feels like she’s walked up and down the roads near her home a million and one times during her unemployment, but would be left shivering completely if she had to go any further. Hands shoved deep in her pockets, she’s opening the door. Her head is naturally turned _downwards _when she nearly runs into a figure in front of her. Eyes raise slowly taking in the polished outfit worn by the smaller woman in the frame of her door. She gnaws down on her lip as she stares **Solar **right in the face.

Thoughts run through Moon’s head quickly. She’d already figured that Solar knew where she lived, but still, it was scary to have someone just .. show up at your home. Solar had shown no signs of knocking. The paranoid part of Moonbyul figured that somehow Solar KNEW she was about to leave. The rational part knew that couldn’t be true.

She didn’t look angry or like she was planning on hurting Byulie, but still, Moon’s _afraid_. She felt vulnerable around the woman, **always**. Like she couldn’t take a breath without it being a personal insult.

Before Moon can even work up the courage to ask Solar what she was here for, the smaller of the two speaks. “ Can I come in? “ Solar’s taking in Moon’s appearance. _Clearly_, she was going somewhere, but Solar still ask. Maybe she was expecting the other to comply? “ **No**. ” Solar isn’t surprised by the answer.

Yongsun flashes the smallest of smiles, “ _Please? _“ she leans into her words, expression hopefully as genuine as she intended it to be. Silence.

They stand there for a moment. So **often **silence took over the two of them. It would almost be _awkward _if it wasn’t for Solar’s unbothered energy. The woman decides to be forward, take what she wants without asking. She pushes past Moon _easily_, tugging off her own boots and shrugging off her petticoat.

The thought to pull Solar back,_ demand she that leave,_ crosses Moon’s mind for a split second, but what was the cost of such an action? She was certain she’d end up worse off if she didn’t just … give her what she wanted. And even still, the courage it would take to pull such a move was **not **within Moon. She takes off her coat and her shoes as well.

Dark eyes go around the unfamiliar apartment. Solar didn’t like to think of herself as stuck up, but still her chin raises as she almost inspects the living space. She isn’t surprised by the woman’s place, nor is she disgusted by it, but Solar was much more accustomed to … nicer things. Her expression is nearly blank as Solar got herself comfortable. They were like unfamiliar animals, one blatantly stepping around in the other’s home, and the other watching—not attacking, curious.

Moon had spent more than one night considering Solar’s character. The woman seemed all too genuine, so **upfront **about her feelings. When angry with her, she’d showed it, but when in the mood to be, she was _kind_. It was strange, Solar stalking around Moon’s place. Her looks weren’t judging, but genuinely curious. Moon wasn’t sure how to approach her. The closest anyone had been to coming into her apartment

Slowly but surely, Solar made her way towards Moon’s kitchen, while Moon lingers just around the corner. The older woman begins rummaging through the fridge, eyes searching for a quick snack. Maybe this was all a power move, some tactic Solar was using to intimidate Moon. And maybe she knows that’s what she’s doing, and Moon knows too, but it isn’t meant to be … _malicious_.

Solar was **made **to shine the brightest, she _**had **_to be in charge, _**had **_to have the upper hand or she felt like she might die. She sighs out, closing the fridge in disappointment. Before a snarky comment can come out, Moon mumbles a, “ Yeah, it’s been pretty empty since you stopped dropping it off to me. “ Confused, Solar’s eyebrows knit together, “_ Are you speaking to me?_ ” Moon nods. Blinking, Solar laughs awkwardly. “ I didn’t bring _anything _to you. This is my first time here. ” Moon thinks she’s **lying**.

It was easier to think that, anyway, because if it **WASN’T **Solar, then who was it? Moon didn’t like the thought of that many strangers knowing her address. So Solar had to be lying, she just had to be. For the sake of Moon’s sanity, she had to believe that. She considers challenging the woman, insisting that what she believed was true, but that would only make things weirder. She licks her lips, fiddles her fingers in a way to distract herself from the strange feeling between the two of them. “ .... then _**why **_are you here? “

Solar shrugs. It was her turn, now, to look towards the ground. There was a bit of humility that had to come with apologizing. After reflecting, Solar had considered her reaction back at the restaurant to be an OVERREACTION. Sure, she still felt justified, but Moon was clearly in need. She hated that nasty feeling she got inside herself whenever she felt she was being particularly cruel. After leaving the other, memories of Moon’s panic attack had gone through her. Solar seemed to be terrified to be the cause of another one.

“ … _Sometimes _I say things the wrong way … I get worked up too quickly. “

It’d been so long since Solar had felt this kind of remorse.

“ There’s a position available under our head chef. It’s just dishes, but it’s a **job **… that’s what you wanted, _right_? “

Moon isn’t **oblivious **to the switching of power. She can feel the shift between the two of them, as Solar drained herself, Moon filled up. She’s brave enough to _consider _the apology instead of accepting right away. Moon considers the woman’s words.

I’m Sorry **never **left Solar’s mouth.

Solar was tucking tail, _right_? She wanted Moon to work for **her**, _right_? Hmm. “ I’ll **think **about it.”

And just as quickly, Solar _raises _her chin. She’s slightly _insulted _by the fact that Moon doesn’t agree right away. Working in her restaurant was a job you got only by being a close friend of the family. Did Moon not **get that? **“ What makes you think you can say no?”

“ What makes you think I’d say yes? “

Solar clears her throat.

“ Why do you care about what happens to me, anyways?”

Solar stops in her tracks._ Care about her?_ It wasn’t that, but it was _close _to that. It wasn’t that Solar **CARED**, it was that Moon was this … broken bird that Solar wanted. Not to fix, no, but to _understand_. As dull as Moon seemed on the outside, her insides **piqued **Solar’s interest. The elder is convinced that Moonbyul couldn’t be as special as she seemed, couldn’t be as different, so her desire to know her came from that. She wanted to know **everything **Moonbyul, prove that she was _better_. Maybe it was the fact that Moon was so _vulnerable _that Solar desired to know her, to **intimidate **her. Solar wanted what Moon had, in a way. Even if her apartment was trashy and she wasn’t clean and her fashion was_ less than admirable_, she was always **Her**. She was always **Moonbyul**. She didn’t lose herself as Solar did. Instead of answering the question, Solar leaves the kitchen.

Her eyes catch the keyboard in the corner of Moon’s living room. Stomach drops as she’s reminded of her father. And it wasn’t like _every time_ she saw a piano she got a surge of sadness,<s> that would be ridiculous</s>, but even the _smallest _tie to Moon intrigued Solar. She sees the layer of dust draped over the plastic and sighs out a little. Maybe it wasn’t hers. Maybe she didn't play anymore.

Even though Solar’s done what she came here for,_ offered Moon the job_, she doesn’t make any specific moves to leave. Instead, she lowers to the ground, knees pulling into her chest as she leaned against Moon’s couch. “ Are you _hungry?_ “ she’ll pull out her phone, swiping through apps as Moon crouched down next to her.

She _**was**_, but Moon didn’t want to take from Solar. She shakes her head, sitting down next to Solar. The movement wasn’t to be closer to the other, but Moon knew that it would make it even more awkward if she didn’t follow suit.

Moon peeks over the woman’s shoulder. **Ubereats**. She _snickers _a little to herself to Solar’s surprise.

Solar glances in Moon’s direction, but for the life of her can’t really understand why Moon has this look on her face.

“ I’ll get you something _anyways_.” In truth, seeing Solar use such a widely used app made her feel a little bit more **down to earth.** She wasn't as scary when her nose was stuck in a mc donalds menu. Moon can’t help but _smile_. Solar’s eyes drift over to Moon again, “ _What? _“ her words are soft, but seeing Moon smile** makes her smile too**. It’s like the first time they’d seen each other … easy to be comfortable. “ Nothing. “ Moon smiles to herself, fingers running through her dark hair.

—

Over the next twenty or so minutes, the women make small conversation. It’s very clear that they _tiptoe_, sticking to easy questions, though most of that involved **Solar **speaking and Moon_ listening_. The occasional joke pulls a_** loud squealing laugh **_from Solar’s mouth. At first, Moon was unsure of how to deal with the sound. It was … **loud**, almost _funny_. Hearing the noise made Moon laugh as well until the two were caught in a fit of laughter. Solar looked _pretty _even when laughing, face scrunched up, but still, her makeup complimented already attractive features.

Now that Moon wasn’t so intimidated, she can **see **that now. She speaks freely, “ You sound like a dolphin. “

Solar squeals, “ _Ya! _“ She pushes Moon’s arm, laugh echoing through the apartment, “ Hwasa says that _all the time_, I do **not**!”

Their good time is interrupted, though, by a _ding! _on Solar’s phone and a knock on the door. **Food’s here**.

Solar’s retrieving the bags while Moon goes into the kitchen.

Since it was just her, Moon never really felt the need to use many dishes. She figured she could just wash the same plate over and over, which is what she’d been doing since she’d got the place. It’s now that Moon realizes just how .. _alone _she was. She’d lived here for **years **and hadn’t ever had anyone over. She had no friends, her family lived too far away to visit. She can hardly feel _bad _or_ lonely _about it, though, not with Solar bouncing into the kitchen. Without the stress of their **status**, the two women fit nicely with each other. Solar bobs around Moon, searching for utensils, getting things out, and Moon moves opposite of her, the two in **sync**.

They’re only knocked out of sync when Moon reaches to retrieve an extra plate from a tall cabinet.

The edge of Moon’s shirt raises to reveal the pale-ish skin on her back.

Solar swallows.

Her eyes linger on the little patch of skin for just a _moment _too long. She wasn’t sure if she was staring because it was the most skin she’d ever seen from the woman, or from the **scar** on Moon’s back. A sinking feeling snatches Solar’s soul as she remembers her own orders to “rough moon up”. That had been so long ago though, right? Why hadn’t it healed yet? She feels this odd feeling inside of her as she continued setting their things, her smile _discarded_. It had been **easy **to give the order to hurt Moon. She owed Solar money, it was **NORMAL **for her to do that, it wasn’t even close to the first time, but … it was the first time she’d actually gotten to see the aftermath.

The last hour or so with Moonbyul had been friendly, comfortable, _fun_, even, but how could Solar, in good conscience, still sit here and pretend like everything was okay? _She had scarred someone._ The guilt itches the edge of Solar’s fingers as they move back to their spot in the living room.

Moon opens her laptop, putting on a random Netflix show for background noise.

Solar looks at her strangely for a moment as she served the two of them.

“ _How _do you have Netflix if you … “

Moon laughs, understanding the question. How could she have Netflix, such a _luxury_, when she couldn’t pay any other bills?

“ It’s **not **mine. Someone in the library left theirs in before me, so I just logged into my google and saved the password.” —

“ Oh.” Solar nods her head. _Interesting_. **Smart**.

“ I didn’t, like, make my own profile or anything, I don’t think they've noticed yet. “

Slowly but surely Solar felt like she was _chipping away _at the mystery that was Moon. Even if it was **tiny **things, even if was just the status of her netflix subscription, Solar would take it. Maybe Solar was using Moon as a cure for boredom, summed her up as an **enigma **so she could have someone to play with.

They sit in silence then, both sort of watching the show on the screen when in _reality _they were really just dodging each other’s looks.

One would have their eye on the screen while the other would be side glancing. _They can both feel the urge to move closer,_ to turn to face the other. It was like they were two **magnets **pressed near each other, not quite facing enough to be _sucked _together, but they could feel the **pull**.

She already knows the answer to what she wants to ask, but with the conclusion of the show, and the two of them left with empty plates and full bellies, she can’t help herself. “ Why do you have a scar? “

Moon would swallow if she could, but Solar’s question had scooped out Moon’s insides. She didn’t really **like **to talk about her back. Everything about her hurting and her scar was a reflection of her _failure_ as a person, at least how that’s how she saw it, and for some reason she wanted Solar to think of her **nicely**. It’s not like Moon doesn’t know who was responsible, but knowing that she’d just had lunch with the person who’d hurt her was too hard to think of. “ I got cut. “

Solar coughs, “ Does it hurt? “

“ A little.”

” Hasn’t it been awhile?”

Moon nods, leaning over to grab Solar’s empty plate. ” I keep forgetting to put the ointment on, it’s a weird angle. ” She’s standing, maybe it’s an attempt to avoid more questions, but Solar follows. Moon can feel the orbit of the sun behind her as she walked towards the kitchen.

“ I can, uh... I can put it on for you, if that would help... “ 

Moon dumps the dishes in the sink, deciding that it was a problem to be dealt with later. She suddenly remembers the mess of her bedroom, embarrassed with the fact that if Solar went behind one door she would think Moon was a slob—and she _was _to a certain extent, but there were plenty of days when her own mental health kept her from being a functioning person. She hadn’t answered Solar’s offer, just staring at the sink as she let her thoughts consume her for a moment, but it’s the perfect opportunity for Solar to start roaming.

Moon peeks from the kitchen to find **Kim Yong Sun** wandering through her small apartment, but before she can reach the bedroom, Moon speaks up. “ **Uh**— ” Solar stops in her tracks, turning to Moonbyul, softest smile on her face. “_Yes_?”

She purses her lips, “ Your help would be _nice_, actually. “

—

** She’s laid out**, stomach down on the couch with her head laying on the back of her palms. She doesn’t know why her hands are shaking, heart racing with the fear of another person touching her. Moon squeezes her eyes shut when Solar lifts her shirt, spine straightening as a breeze goes by them. “Is this alright?” she hears Solar speak. She’s aware that she can stop this all right now, but there **has **to be a part of her that wants to be touched, that wants Solar’s hands on her, because she says nothing.

But she nods. “ I’m okay. “

Solar’s hands are _warm_, Moon doesn’t know why she expected her hands to be cold, or to hurt in some way, but she finds comfort in Solar’s touch. It feels so tense in the first few moments like the air couldn’t be thicker, but once Solar dabs the product on, Moon breathes out. Her hands are soft, too. Strange feel against Moon’s back. There’s a _second _of pain, a **wince **from Moonbyul’s lips, her spine curving away from Solar’s touch, but palms **hold her down,** _pressure _from Solar’s fingertips a silent expression of, _I got you, you’re okay._ And Moon can relax again

Though Solar seemed to be using Moon as a way of entertainment, Moon was using her back. Solar had somehow become her protector. She fed her, she cared for her even in this tiny way. Of course, Solar’s eagerness to take care of Moon was something that _endeared _her, but Solar was starting to become an easy way out for Moon.

It’s not like the two women are **unaware **of what they were doing, but neither of them felt _good _about it.

As Solar finishes, Moon sits up. She doesn’t pull away from how their thighs touch each other's, smiling in her lap.

Moon nudges the other, mumbling a “ Thanks. “ Solar nods.

Moon stops for a second, considering that maybe she was being a little bit harsh towards the other. It wasn’t her starting intention to manipulate the woman into giving her things or taking care of her. Moon appreciated it, and to some extent, it wasn’t up to her. She didn’t **ask **Solar to offer her food, she didn’t **ask** Solar to come over here and offer her the job again, she didn’t **ask **Solar to bring her groceries, but she’d _**accepted **_all of it. Even with a substantial standing debt that she owed to the woman right next to her, Solar extended kindness to her, and then some. “_ Thank you_. “ Moon repeats herself, and she knows Solar would never understand, but she was thanking her for more than just treating her wound. It was for everything. Solar was the reason she wasn’t sitting her starving. It makes Moon feel bad, now. She’d basically thrown Solar’s job offer back in her face, when she was the one who’d asked for it. Now that she can be more rational, considering the offer wasn’t really a choice.

She sits here unsure. What had just happened was .. _intimate_. In a **weird **way, though. It was like stepping up to a stranger and telling them your biggest secret. They both know they can’t sit here for much longer. Any more time and their soft silence would turn into **awkwardness**.

Solar makes the first move.

It was almost like their minds were in _sync_, both women still considering the job Solar had offered. “ You don’t have to work if you don’t want to, I— ... ” she shakes her head a little, smiling. “ I just wanted to ask since I was so upset last time, you didn’t really get a good response from me. Would you want the job? ”

It isn’t even a _second _after **Moon says yes** and Solar’s arms wrap around her. They’re both smiling big now, Solar’s own large grin pulling one from under Moon. Gasps from both of them, **two magnets finally being pressed together. **Moon hugs her back.

A _big _breath is taken, though neither girl can figure who it’s from.

**END OF CHAPTER FIVE**


	6. Almost + [Solar's Dream]

**TW**: alcohol

The hardest part about starting a new job was the alarms. Moonbyul felt like she’d had a headache for_ two weeks straight_, all of it starting with that first_** ergh ergh ergh**_. Unfortunately for her, the alarm was a necessary evil, as it was the only thing separating her from unemployment. It was that in the morning and then the ringing of Wheein’s _voice_, soft and kind when she needed it and **loud **and **commanding **when she wanted it to be. Moon often found herself receiving the _latter_, but to an extent, she found it _endearing_.

Wheein lived close enough to Moon where carpooling just _made sense_, plus it saved her the trouble of walking or taking the bus. During those car rides, Wheein was sweet, fun, often the two would play music on the radio while Wheein discussed her plans for the night. Though only a few years younger than Moon, Wheein was filled with this admirable _brightness_. Solar possessed the same quality, but Wheein’s felt more .. **authentic**. Like she didn’t really care about who was watching her, she was just having a good time for **her**. The occasional criticism from Wheein didn’t hurt Moon like it usually would with anyone else because Moon knew that overnight her mistakes would be **forgiven **and Wheein would start the day out with a positive approach again. The two women weren’t very close in terms of knowing each other, but they’d crossed the line to comfortable.

Truly, the only downside to carpooling was that Moon had a few hours of just sitting while the kitchen staff prepped for dinner. She’d spend it trying to help out any way she could, really feel like she was earning her keep. In all honesty, and maybe it’s because of her other issues, but Moon didn’t feel like she really **DESERVED **her paycheck. She isn’t all too sure Why she feels this way, but her few hours off are spent peeling potatoes in an attempt to cure herself of those feelings.

_**Paychecks **_— the feeling that flowed through Moon’s being when she tore open that **first **paystub was .. _indescribable_. Pride is probably the word for how she felt, for the woman was brought to tears just seeing her name typed onto that little scrap of paper. And it wasn’t about the _money_, it was **never **about the money. She wasn’t depressed because she had no money, she wasn’t cursed with anxiety because she didn’t own nice things, _**no**_. She felt this way because she felt _**helpless**_. Taking care of herself was _healing _her. Showering regularly, she always smelled like _flowers_, she always felt good getting into the car with her superior. The weight of overdue rent was pushed aside. She’d done her laundry, gotten back to her feet.

The only times when she felt truly confused and lost was when she was **alone**. When the only thing to consume her mind was the nothingness. What did she do? What did she like to do?_ Who am I? Who is Moonbyul? What does Moonbyul like?_ The simple answer was music, playing piano even if she wasn’t amazing, but over the years Moon has started to consider: did she love music because she loved music, or because her parents had _urged _her to love it? She’d let music devour her, distract her from her problems, but now with the self-awareness that came with having her shit together (**at least more than usual**), Moon wasn’t so sure if she could let that happen again. So she sits. In silence. She **hates **it. Her time for relaxing is instead used as a place to mentally freak out, consider her future, consider her now, think about everything until she was ultimately overwhelmed and left sobbing.

But here — at the restaurant — Moon was the bus girl. There was no question for her duties, who she was did not matter here. All that mattered were plates, cups, utensils. Scrubbing. The squeak of her bright yellow gloves did nothing to aid her headache, though. They were preparing for dinner, Moon scrubbing grime of the dishes from lunch, while Wheein rummaged through the freezer.

It seemed like Moon could never stop her racing mind, hand aimlessly scrubbing circles on a plate as she mentally nudged Wheein for conversation. She clears her throat, breathing in the soapy smells, “ … chef, can i ask you something? “ Wheein grunts in approval.

Moon stands a little straighter, “ .. i was just wondering … why does, uh, _**hwasa **_… “ she trails off, looking to the side as she lost her nerve. Wheein understands, though.

“ Shed doesn't hate you. “

Moon looks in Wheein’s direction.

“ She appears really cold, but she’s honestly _very _nice. She just takes her job really seriously... and she doesn’t trust you around Solar. “

Wheein was clearly speaking freely, but realizes her mistake. “ —I just mean that they’ve been close for a _while_. Hwasa is just **protective**. She mentioned maybe a week ago that she thought you would _**break **_Solar or something … “

“ You guys were talking about me? “ Moon cuts in.

Wheein can feel the tension rise in the tiniest moment. She sighs, “ Don’t be _offended _or anything. Everyone talks about everyone. We’re talking about Hwasa right now, **aren’t we? **“

Wheein was right, but still her words made Moon consider things. _**Break Solar,**_ how could Moon do that? What did those words even _imply?_

Moon is suddenly brought back to Solar’s hands on her skin, _caring for her_, how close they were that day in her apartment. It was a **good **memory, something she didn’t even realise she’d cherished until she was lost in it right now. She was so soft,_ so pretty_. Moon wanted to run her fingers through Solar’s dark hair, hear her make her loud laugh again, watch her— “ **Hey**! ” 

Moon blinks to see Wheein’s hand in her face, snapping. Wheein looks … _very _unhappy. Moon swallows. What did she do now? It’s only when Wheein starts to yell at her that Moon looks down to see the plate that was in her hands. On the ground. In pieces. **Shit**.

Moon stands hurriedly, tugging off her gloves and tossing them aside before she gets down on her knees, frantically trying to pick up the glass as Wheein’s yells rang through her scull. “ Stand up! —_God_, I just, you— _**ugh**_!” Wheein runs her fingers through her hair in frustration as Moon rises to her feet. Wheein tugs on her own waistband, retrieving something before shoving **keys **into Moon’s palm. “ Just _go_, I need you to get away from me right now. Go get some rice from the basement, okay?_** Can you handle that?**_” she doesn’t give Moon time to answer, turning away from her as she mumbled more words of frustration.

Moon wants to smack herself, punish herself for making stupid mistakes. _Did you forget that you need this job? _She’s asking herself, stomping her way towards the basement. Hands fumble at the top of the steps to find a lightswitch, but her mind is ... _elsewhere_. She opts for her phone’s flashlight instead, carefully stepping down the creaky staircase. Her boots shuffled against the concrete of the basement, arms wrapping around herself to shield her body from the cold. _There must be another freezer down here._ Eyes are squinted in an attempt to focus in the darkness, her flashlight only doing so much. She’s wincing, stepping back as her thigh hit against something **hard**. She flashes light to inspect and sees a square table with a floral drape over it. She curses, free palm rubbing at her soon-to-be bruised area. Moon is pretty sure she’s finally heading in the right direction when the light shines upon the shiniest **black wood **Moon’s ever seen.

_Why was there a piano down here?_ She can feel the corners of her lips twitching with intrigue as she stepped closer.

She’s convinced she was alone, pulling out the bench and taking a seat. She turns off her flashlight, not needing it for the moment, as she opened the piano. God, it even _felt _expensive, something far more interesting than her cheap Casio back at home. She can feel the nervousness inside of her bones, like how she felt in the fourth grade when playing for her parents, even if there was no one watching. But then again, there was someone watching. **Moon**. It was like she was challenging **herself**. _I dare you. _Did she really **want **to? Would touching the forbidden gem _**confirm **_Moon’s identity? The thoughts that this baby grand was the answer didn’t seem too far off. She’s completely distracted, forgotten nearly completely about her goal as she urged herself to play, to press one key, _just one key._

Her fingers know exactly what to do, bending to hover over the chord she’s played a million times. The sweet notes _bless_ her ears, though slightly out of tune due to the piano needing to be tuned, but still it _cures _her headache. Moon’s **grinning **now, playing two more simple chords. God, she’d forgotten how **good **this felt———” _**What are you doing?!**_” a hand on her shoulder, Moon whips around. It takes her a second to adjust in the darkness to see her accuser’s face. “I-I was just— ” she stops when she recognizes features.

Simultaneously their faces relax, **Solar’s **anger drifting into curiosity, and Moon’s surprise moving into a neutral position, dabbling on _shameful_.

“Sorry.” Solar murmurs, “ I just don’t really—” “No, _**I’m**_ Sorry, I shouldn’t have been down here. ”

Solar clears her throat. She wipes her hands on her skirt, nervously holding herself together. The last time she’d seen moon was in the apartment. She puts her hands out when she sees Moon stand, “ no, no, no it’s alright! I promise you’re okay. “ There was an _eagerness _in Solar’s tone that surprised Moon. _Why was she so interested in her playing skills?_ She didn’t think it was all that interesting.

Solar takes a seat next ot Moon on the small bench and Moon finds her eyes locked on the keys of the piano. Solar seemed to _**like **_invading Moon’s personal space. It was a tiny burst of power that she got to have, Moon knows that, but **still **is under its control. Byul can feel Solar’s gaze on her. In this darkness it was hard to see what was coming.

Moon lets her fingers lay gently against the keys, staring down at shining ivory, the white really being the only thing she could see down here. _Why was **Solar **down here?_

The elder’s eyes are stuck on Moon, edge of a smile on her lips. She _admires _Moon’s features, **pretty **even in this darkness. A hand reaches to _gently _move a lock of Moon’s hair behind her ear. Solar **knows **what she’s doing.

The younger turns towards Solar at the feel of her hands. She’s even more thankful that Solar couldn’t see just how **hot **her cheeks burned. Solar’s motion had been … _flirtatious_, almost like she could’ve said something right after and leave Moon speechless. It’s only a second of thought, a second after Solar’s greasy actions when she speaks again. She’s so quiet against the hollowness of the basement, her _whispers _are whispers, “ Do you wanna play something?”

Moon feels _chills _down her spine. Solar was **attractive**, in every sense of the word. The magnets inside the two of them have been _itching _to get together. Moon was always stuck in the kitchen and Solar in her office, so close but _so far _away from eachother. They both knew something like this was bound to happen again, but the women were unsure of what exactly “**this**” was.

Moon won’t answer her, just starts lightly pressing on the keys so not to make too much noise. They were far away from the staircase so Moon was confident that they wouldn’t be heard.

The second Yongsun hears the tune, she recognizes it. A smile spreads across her cheeks, though she’s sure Moon couldn’t see her. “ … i _love _that song. “ she murmurs, though immediately after Moon’s fingers rest. Suprised by Solar’s voice, Moon reaches to close the piano, but is stopped by Solar’s hand. _Electricity _shoots through her palm as Solar cooly pressed down on Moon’s hand. Why was Solar’s touch always so .. _supportive? _

“Try again, okay?”

Solar’s words are enough for Moon to start playing again, slower this time. She really focuses, considering each movement with care. Solar scoots closer, head _leaning _on Moon’s shoulder as her hands fall back in her own lap. Solar closes her eyes as she _very _softly sang along to Moon’s playing. Solar could feel her voice echoing through the basement and smiles when she hears a voice** join her **own in harmony.

Moon’s hands shake with nervousness as Solar leaned on her, voice barely over a whisper, singing the harmony along with her elder. Her heart pounds in this sweet moment, letting out a big breath as the song came to an end.

Solar’s voice is _sultry _in a way, whispered into Moon’s ear in a way that gives her **shivers**. “ your voice is so … _delicate_. “ Moon laughs a little, hands settling in her lap. “ … oh, uh **thank you**. “ she mumbes, “You, too.”

The elder’s eyes linger on Moon’s lips for a _long _moment. Moon can _feel _it, licking her lips nervously. Moon places hands in her lap to hide their **shaking**. They were so close that she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

“ That was my father’s piano. He, uh, he never played anything like _that_, but it was still **really **nice. ”  


“... what happened to him?”

Solar shakes her head, “He passed away.” she can hear the slightest noise from Moon’s lips and cuts her off first, “You **_don’t_** have to say sorry, _don’t say sorry_.”

She rubs her hands together, unsure of what to say. _That’s _why she didn’t want her touching it. Moon turns her head, “ I _**am **_sorry though.” Solar lifts her chin slightly, the two so close that Moon can feel Solar’s breath **against **her lips. Solar licks her lips lightly, feeling the evident urge inside of herself to just _lean forward_. It wouldn’t take much effort either, just the _tiniest _bit of leaning and— “I never said thank you for the job. “

She breathes out. Saved from herself. Solar snickers, “You don’t **_have _**to say thank you. “

They’re silent, both hovering in eachother’s space. With each passing second, the tension **grew **between the two of them. They both smile a little, though they don’t see much from eachother.

She finally leans forward, _**intending **_to break the space between them, and Moon doesn’t pull away either, head craning _forward _a little bit too. And just as they’re about to finally close the distance between, **both **of their eyes closing, lips _nearly _touching, the door to the basement **slams **open.

Wheein’s voice rings through the basement as she yelled for Moon, “**What **are you taking so long for?!”

Moon stands suddenly, fingers combing hair behind her head nervously as she races to find the rice. **Shit**. _What just happened?_ **Oh god**. Her mind is _everywhere_, hands shaking with nervousness, stomach in knots, eyes struggling to look in the darkness before she remembers. _My phone!_ She shines the light around, finally finding the sack of rice and returning upstairs without another glance in Solar’s direction.

———-

It was an early night for the workers, everyone focused on cleaning up so they could return to their residencies. The tips of Moon’s fingers were _pruney _even though she wore gloves. She scrubbed **circles **and **circles **of suds, trying her hardest to pick up the slack from her other … _less motivated_ colleagues.

As moon fishes the last of the plates she yanks off her gloves, palms drying off on the back of her jeans. As she raises her hands to pull long brown locks into a ponytail, Moon’s reminded of Solar’s touch once more. How she’s tucked a strand behind Moons ear_. She knows what she’s doing. _Moon thinks to herself. Solar was **definitely **flirting with her early — she _**had**_ to be. Moon knows she couldn’t have imagined the kiss — well the _**almost kiss**_. She’s put it to the back of her mind before now, wanting to stay focused on her work, but with a second to breathe, the thought of kissing Solar all but consumes her. It had been a _very _long time since Moon had even been anywhere near **wanting **someone like this._ But did she want her? _Moon wasn’t sure. There was a chance that she was swept up in the drama of it all, in the longing glances Solar seemed to give Moon whenever they were close.

When Solar enters the kitchen with Hwasa following suit, Moon keeps her head down. She feels the heat rise to her cheeks, feeling the magnetic tension between the two of them _**again**_.

And Solar feels it too, though she will admit that their little moment has taken more of her mind than Moon’s. Her day after their little time together had been … _messy_. She’s sure Moon had wondered what Solar was doing down there. Maybe Moon figured she was grieving, or looking for something, but really all it was it that sometimes Solar needed to be **alone**. She _craved _responsibility, if only to keep her mind active, but she’d be lying if she said that she didn’t occasionally need a break. The dark and cool of the basement was enough to ease Solar’s mind. So many nights were spent down there, either with her family or with her friends and it transformed the damp basement into a** safe space**.

Solar is worried she’s ruined that space for herself for forever. She never realized just how many times a day she went down there, but now whenever she has the urge to race down the steps, she’s thinking of _Moon’s lips_. And maybe it’s because it’s fresh in her mind, but it **bugs **her nonetheless. She’s almost had the desire to cancel plans for the night, but decides that their … _**moment **_… would only matter if she let it matter.

She’s cooly walking into the kitchen to retrieve Wheein. They’re just about done, all that was really left was for the bussers to finish up, so she doesn’t feel remorse for ruining Wheein’s flow. She hates that all she wants to do is go over to Moon. She doesn’t even know **WHY **she wants to._ What would she even do? _It wasn’t like they had anything particularly in common, not really. The two women were apart of **different **worlds, conversation wasn’t really something Solar could fathom right now. _What was she even supposed to say?_ Hey, remember when i tried to kiss you? No, there was nothing to do. She tries to ignore Moon and her enticing energy. Solar turns to Wheein, feeling Hwasa following naturally behind her. She gently nudges the side of Wheein, interrupting the woman from her cleaning.  


Moon wasn’t eavesdropping_ per se_, but she was only like five feet away from them, it wasn’t like she could block it out.

“ You’re joining us tonight, right? “ Moon raises her eyebrows._ What did they have going on?_

“No.” wheein replies plainly, frown on her face, but soon after breaks her smile, laughing a little and nudging Solar back, “Of course, I never miss.”

She licks her lips, trying to distract herself, occupy her mind with something other than other people’s business. And it’s like that for a moment, moon staring at her hands, until something overcomes her. she turns around, taking a few steps forward. ‘ uh—could _**i**_ join you guys? ’ maybe it was built up loneliness, or _boredom_, or dare she think it, an **urge **to be **closer **to Solar, but her reasons didn’t matter. She’d already placed her offer on the table.

She exchanges glances with the fatal woman, Hwasa’s chin turned up slightly, but Moon isn’t intimidated. Surely it’s because of her change of appearance. No longer was Hwasa draped in some fabric, showing off tanned skin, distracting Moon with overtly attractive features. Her new ensemble was much more .. _humble_. She must’ve changed. Sienna turtle neck, sheer enough to see the black bra Hwasa wore underneath, but she didn’t seem to mind—it was _intentional_. Jeans were a good look on Hwasa’s figure, not nearly as slim as the other women.

Moon’s ogling is paused when she hears Solar’s voice. Sets of eyes shoot together to look eachother in the eyes and it’s like someone sent a shock through the both of them. Nervousness coats conversation just as it always does, and their spectators take notice. Yong gulps. ‘ Yeah, if you aren’t busy, sure. We just go downstairs, have a few drinks, play cards. ’  


Moon nods, ‘ okay, yeah, I’ll just finish cleaning u— ’ ‘ —no, just finish up _later_. ’ Wheein’s voice is added to te mix.

Wheein, always friendly and helpful, grabs at Moon, tugging off her gloves and tossing them to the side, ‘ i’ll grab a few drinks from the bar and then just meet us downstairs. ’ It’s easier for Byul to smile with Wheein around.

—

It takes no time really for them all to gather around downstairs. The table they sit at feels … _slightly _familiar to Moon, same height as the one she’d ran into earlier. She laughs briefly to herself. She could almost forgive the table for harming her, the charm of it’s prints swaying her to **adore **the furniture. She takes a seat, all together random in her choosing, but subconsciously it seems she was swayed. Wheein on her right, Solar on her left. Of course, this meant that **Hwasa **was across from her. Hwasa offers a charming smile, hand stretching across the table to shake Moon’s. ‘ So you chose me for your **partner**, huh? ’ Moon has to resist the urge to clear her throat. It would be entirely too awkward to demand they switch around. She could deal with one night with hwasa,_ right? _And it was **just **cards, it wouldn’t be a big deal anyways, right?

As Solar shuffles, Wheein fishes her wallet out, throwing two hundred dollar bills into the middle of the table, ‘ Starting bids, right? ’ Moon feels her stomach drop. Though she’d risen from a starving woman, it wasn’t like she could just throw her money out into the wind with hopes that it would bloom into more cash. Lips part slightly, starting to speak before Solar interrupts her. ‘ —Why don’t we make it more _interesting _tonight, huh? We bet _shifts_, loser has to cover for us. ’

Wheein looks oddly at her leader, ‘ Yongsun, but you don’t do anything. ’ a joke. Solar laughs lightly, reaching over the table to mimic hitting her younger. ‘ And what about Hyejin, huh? She just has to look pretty and makes more than both of us. ’ Solar adds to the fire until all three of the familiars are laughing. Moon sits their quietly, though her presence doesn’t bring a layer of awkwardness to the conversation. She listens closely, appreciates. It’s nice —seeing the three of them. It was like she was staring in from a bubble, memories and comforts and love mixed between the three of them. It was beautiful, really, drinks being poured, Moon sipping from her slowly. Hyejin, Yongsun, names Moon has never known before. They probably didn’t even realize it’d slipped out, but Moon holds the names close to her chest. Solar was **Yong Sun**, Hwasa was **Hyejin**. Funnily enough, both names fit the women.

As Solar dished out cards, one drink under her belt and four shifts bet, she notices from the corner of her eye that their newcomer was starting to mesh with the rest of them. She didn’t even see when Moon had started being so talkative, but maybe it came with the cards. Her and Wheein were in the lead, three hands under their belt, Spades, two more to meet their goal. Moon had bet nil, but Solar doubted she would be able to make it.

She felt almost … _proud_, watching Moon talk. She spoke of her favorite shows, of her dogs, _though she didn’t see them often_, her favorite things to eat, so cook, all of this in between drinks until all four of them were hiccuping, Solar much sooner than the other women, though. It had been a very long time for all of them since they’d let loose like this.

Moon completed them, filled the missing space, **Solar north, Moon south, Wheein and Hwasa, east and west respectively.** They all _clicked_, the energy of the flow passing in this beautiful compilation of laughs. Right now it didn’t _matter _who any of these women were, their occupation, thier lives. What matter was that, ‘ Byulie, you’re totally cheating ! ’ — ‘ No, I’m just way better at this than you are. ’ there were laughs all around.

Last round, bottles finished, both teams with a competitiveness running deep. Hwasa and Moon combine their intensities, developing this … amazing poker face with the slightest tells so Hwasa could tell exactly what cards Moon had. And Solar and Wheein, both cool and calm as they dominated. Nearly a tie, ten points separating both groups. Winner takes all.

They would’ve finished the game long ago, but brief intermissions taken for drinks, or for stories, or one of Hwasas milion bathroom visits, dragged their game into the _late _hours of the night. All four of them groggy, halfway their as they tried to finish.

In one last move, they all slap down their final card, all waiting to see who would win and who would be left to cover a total of seven shifts. Hwasa, Jack of Clubs, Moon, Two of Diamonds, Solar, Queen of Hearts … and Wheein, **Ace of Spades**! Solar cheers in excitement, standing quickly to hug Wheein in a wobbly drunken embrace.

Hyejin and Moon shake hands, deciding to split the shifts in half.

Their victory is short lived though when Solar takes a look at the clock, **ugh**, _how did it get so late already?_ They all sigh collectively, and their minds must be elsewhere. Though the ideal situation would have Wheein and Moon uber home together, Hyejin has grabbed onto Wheein’s arm, dragging her upstairs, Moon not too far behind while Solar cleared up the table.

Moon makes her way back into the kitchen, preparing to finish up the last of the dishes even if her foggy brain begged her to go to sleep. She’s searching for her yellow gloves, head going back and forth as she tried to focus on something. Jesus, why did I drink so much? She’s thinking.

She’s all but convinced she’s alone when Wheein and Hwasa leave from the back, but the clatter of dishes behind her draws her attention. Turning around slowly, Moon sees Solar, tight red dress hugging her curve. Moon’s looks are a lot more obvious not with her abbreviation, smile sitting on her lips, mouth already forming the words, you look pretty.

Moon leans against the counter for stability, both of them exchanging looks. Solar moves closer, _snaking _her way towards Moon in the most _alluring _fashion.

She places her hand atop Moon’s.

The electricity between them was sobering, but not _nearly _enough for them to have clear minds. ‘ About _earlier_... ’ Solar starts, but her words are an excuse to move closer. He rheels help her hover over Moon’s height, hands placed on the table, either side of Moon. they’re so close now, closer than they’d ever gotten before, and the air between them is thick, yearning evident between the both of them.

Moon’s words are teasing, dangerous, bold, ‘ **Yes**, **_yongsun?_** ’ Solar sighs out, pressing her forehead _against _Moon’s and closing her eyes. She’s pushed herself this far, and she could stop, but she doesn’t want to. Moon’s words pull at her, smile tugging at the corner of her lips. _When did Moon become so bold? _It was a disgustingly **attractive **motion, _flirtatious _not in their weight but in their tone, how _softly _she spoke her name, _Yongsun_, Solar’s cheeks burned. The taste of alcohol still fresh on both of them, they move even closer, Moon craning her neck upward, lips nearly pulling away, teasing. Ugh. Solar runs a hand through Moon’s hair, Byul does the same, both of them sitting in the mass of energy they’d created for each other. ' _say that again _... ' Moon’s hand slides up Solar’s side, resting on her waist, tugging slightly at red fabric, urging her to do something about this. ' _**yongsun**_... '

Completely in sync, their eyes open for a brief moment to catch a glimpse of the beauties before them, but snap shut in realization. Soft giggles fall from their lips, Moon’s grip tightening, Solar tugging _lightly _on Moon’s hair, Moon **groaning**. ‘ _ow_. ’ she whispers, though it’s merely to hear more from Solar, ‘ _sorry_, baby. ’ the words fall from solar’s lips so easily, like she’d been waiting to call moon baby for the **longest time**. And they sit stand their, _hands_ on one another, temples pressed against one another, sharing breaths as they both hesitated from giving the other what they wanted.

—

**End of Chapter Six**

———————————————

**6 1/2 — Solar's Dream**: 

There’s a sort of freedom that comes with dreaming; a release of the mind, giving in to **all **the things you want, _masked _as other things. Yongsun’s sleep was never deep enough for her to fall into the fade of dreams, mind too caught up with responsibilities, but after a night of _drinking_, she was completely underneath the spell of slumber.

She dreams of open skies and clouds that _touch _the edge of a grass clearing, air **_C R A C K L I N G_** like flecks of glass _dancing _around her sight. It’s a <s>heaven</s> of a sort, and though Solar wears _nothing_, she feels the brush of a light fabric across her skin as her feet _barely _brush the edge of the clouds.

And sat right in the center, like a blooming flower amidst the emerald of the grass lay _Moon_, beautiful and _shining_, clothed in **flannel **that seems all too ordinary for such scenery.

Solar _**runs **_to her. It makes sense. She embraces her, tackles her in the soft of the land before them. They push through clouds and cotton candy, rolling around, _lips locked_ and touch desperate though Solar feels … _nothing_. When touching Moon, Solar feels like Yongsun, she feels complete in all ways _**but **_romantic. Her true desires, ones that came _**way**_ before Moon walked into her life, were fulfilled by Moon’s Kiss. But it was in the air **around **her, though lips felt numb, the clouds were **full **and **thick **like _storms _but still held the wispy light essence of her dream.

**And Moon.**

She’s a figure of Solar’s fantasies, **strong**, light eyes, lightly tanned skin, she _**smiles **_always, something Solar _missed _from the real Moon. _Desire _was **Moon**, she shined through the clouds as a beacon of _everything _Solar wanted. Spirit of **love**, goddess of _light_, the woman in the Moon, she pulled Solar closer, **neither of them moving away**.

She’s everything Solar wants her to be, standing with a grace, floating over towards Solar as they played with one another, their loving holding such an _innocence _that Solar could feel **no **shame, even—**_ESPECIALLY_**—in her dreams.

And she feels arms around her, so **vivid**, so _real_, hands around her waist, tugging her _closer_. A head buried in the crook of her neck. She smells like _flowers_, like **life**, like a fist **banging** on a door until it breaks free, demanding to live, to be seen, freedom. She was .. _everything _Solar needed.

A **good **dream, one that would be forgotten in the morning when reality would set back in and YongSun would have to be Solar once again, but for now, she’ll roll between the clouds with her lover.

**END OF MINI CHAPTER**


	7. The Office

**TW**: no triggers i believe!

The atmosphere when returning to work the next day was … **different**. In nearly _every _way. It catches Moon off guard as she walked past Hwasa. Usually her course was never interrupted, but today things had shifted.

“Good morning, Byulie.” a snap of byul’s head in the direction of the voice, smiles from both of them. Was _this _what Wheein was talking about? Was this the **warmth **that she’d promised Hwasa had? Her voice, thick, _sultry _to a fault as Moon continued down her path, manicured fingers giving a small little wave. Those three words seemed to absolve Hwasa of **all **of her past crimes. She raises a palm, waves back, “ Morning.” 

Three words jumpstart Byul. And even though she felt like crap, <s>all **FOUR **of them felt like garbage after their night of heavy drinking</s>, Hwasa’s good morning had made it better. Maybe they were closer now. Maybe they were **friends**.

She smiles again as the thought passes by her mind, continuing on her way to the kitchen. Wheein and her had only grown **closer **last night, truly the _best _way to friendship was sharing stories. And even riding in today beside the girl, Wheein was smiling, a little bit tired. _You were fun last night_, she’d said. Moon held those words close to her heart.

It had occurred to Moon while showering this morning that _maybe_ she had just been **lonely**. That all she needed was some friends, **someone **to talk to, even about unimportant things. That being alone with her thoughts was what _really _had tried to poison her.

The gross, hungover feelings fade **slowly**, so slowly that when she finally feels better, she’s so busy preparing for lunch that she can’t even consider the fact that her headache was no longer there. Groans and aches slipped from her lips as she carried heavy things, trying to ignore the faint ache that still ran up and down her back—_would the pain ever truly fade?_

She used to think of her injury and **hate **Solar, hate Solar for what she’d done to her, hate Solar for being Solar, but that hatred had faded once she started working. And **Again**. _Isolation_. It **muted **the mind, blinded Moon to things she could’ve considered if she wasn’t so **alone**. Solar had her reasons, Moon was not without blame. She’d _**forgiven **_Solar for that.

It was weird to do so, though. If she didn’t **hate **Solar, what feeling was supposed to replace it? _Love_? She snickers—outwardly, drawing the attention of the workers around her before she looks down. _Love Solar?_ She barely knew her. Sure she was pretty, smart, caring, but to _**love**_ someone, Moon felt she needed to know the little things, the secrets that would make Solar herself. When Moon looked at Solar, she saw the _sketches _of a person, _skeletons _that were not yet filled in. Who was she? Moon was curious. She wanted to smile wide, thinking about Solar. It was still weird, owing someone, she didn’t like it at all, but it was easy to forget all of that the second Solar smiled. She truly was the **sun**, blocking out all of the **moon**light, no matter how bright or dim.

She’s such an idiot though, **dumb **and _funny _and weird and … _deliciously _intimate. Whenever Solar was close she seemed to want to get closer. Moon’s smiling again just thinking about it.

Ugh. Her mind is _everywhere_, thinking about their **almost **kiss. It seemed like the two just couldn’t get together. Even today, when Moon hoped that she would see Solar, the woman was nowhere to be found. And it wasn’t like Moon could shirk her responsibilities to pursue her crush on the other, she had to wait for a good opportunity, a minute to sneak into the basement to see if maybe the other stopped by to see her too, but it hadn’t worked out that way all day long. Was she disappointed? Maybe a **little **bit. What did she _think _would come from the two of them speaking? She wasn’t sure.

Questions are only partially answered as she scrubbed dishes, watching as Solar passed by then and towards the back. The woman looked .. terrible. Byul can’t remember Solar drinking any more than the rest of them, maybe she was just a lightweight. She had the energy of someone who’d been through hell. Her hair was up, and she was wearing jeans. Moon can’t remember her ever seeing Solar wear something that wasn’t blatantly belonging to some flashy brand. It humbling, seeing her like this. Clearly she had a rough morning to come in to work well past 7pm.

Moon kept her head down, prepared to let Solar adjust to work before approaching her, but it seemed like Solar had a different idea. The older tugs on Moon’s sleeve, " Follow me to my office. " it’s a command.

Moon’s intrigued, interested. She follows _obediently_, abandoning her work and somehow feeling this sense of **confidence**. Maybe she thought they would spend time with one another in her office. It was a thought she hadn’t ever had before, but now **having **Solar on top of her desk was something that interested Moon heavily. Seeing her perfect hair and perfect everything a little bit messed up—_**ugh**_. Moon licks her lips, holding back the etchings of a smirk as she thought of them doing all of that and more.

But then again—**maybe **she was firing her. Maybe they’d **both **crossed a line yesterday that they _shouldn’t’ve_. Maybe solar thought that it would be too weird to work beside her now, that things could never be the same, so Moon **had **to go.

She tells herself that this **couldn’t **be true that Solar _wouldn’t _do that. but honestly Moon doesn’t feel she knows Solar that well. _What did she look like when truly angry? _She’d only seen it **once **before and it was something she’d worked hard to cleanse from her memory. Solar being angry had **pissed her off **then, made her feel useless, but now? Now that there was an inkling of interest for the other, Moon expects that seeing Solar truly angry would .. **hurt**.

It’s when they finally enter Solar’s office, close the door behind the two of them, that Moon _remembers_. The **last **time she was in here she’d had a **breakdown**. It would embarrass her if she wasn’t feeling so **good**. Her body was crying for a much needed nap, but inside she felt **strong**, she felt _good_. The night before had been … so good. It had **nourished **her insides, made Moon feel like a person again.

“ Last night— ” Moon stops, turning back to the woman. She gives her a nod, continue.

“ Did we, uh ... ” Solar looked stressed out, more than a little bit. It appeared that overnight, Moon’s fondness for the woman only **grew**. Maybe it’s because of how their night ended, but Byul can’t help but be a little _playful_. “ Did we _**what?**_ ” she can feel that smirk coming onto her lips, an expression she hasn’t been used to in a long time. Maybe she liked Solar.

She thinks for a second, realizing, “ Wait—what do _**you **_think we did? ”

Solar isn’t sure why she feels ashamed to say it, like Moon was interrogating her, like Solar was confessing her sins .. or like telling her mother she’d broken a plate. It was less about the implications of her words, but more about the sloppiness.

Her memory had faded away in the middle of the night. She’d awoke with one of the **worst **headaches she’s ever had, and the desire for _someone _to be laid next to her, but not just anyone. Perhaps it was because of her dream that she wanted Moon to take care of her, to hold her hair back during the few times she’d puked this morning—or maybe, just _**maybe**_, it was because Moon **HAD BEEN **there. Solar considers that maybe they had gone back to her place, maybe they did things together. _Maybe _they fell asleep in each other's arms. _Maybe _Solar dreamt of moon because she was **right there with her.**

Moon snickers. “ You think we **slept **together? … And, what, I just _slipped out _while you were sleeping? ”

“ This _**isn’t **_a joke, I— ”

“ —you don’t even remember, _**do you?**_ ” Moon can’t hold back her laughter, covering her mouth with both hands as Solar nearly scowled.

She knows she’s being **cruel**, but the chance to have the upper hand with Solar was so rare, she couldn’t help but to find the humor in the situation. “ I don’t know whether I should be offended — you look so _scared _… do you think I’d be **that **bad, or are you _**straight **_or something?” She’s genuinely curious, stepping closer to Solar. Her head tilts _slightly _as she finishes her sentence, lips parted slightly as she searched for Solar’s answer.

But it doesn’t come for a while, Solar’s gaze locked on her hands as she tried to ignore the gross feelings she had inside. Even now, Solar frustrated Moon. How was she so beautiful? Moon liked her a lot better with no makeup on. Her eyes can instead lock on her pronounced structure, the lovely line from her jaw all the way down to her collar bone. “—**stop **looking at me like that.” — “ like _**what? **_”

Solar stands a bit straighter. “ Like I’m not your _boss_.”

She expects Moon to cower, apologize, but when she **doesn’t**, Solar’s interest is _piqued_.

Byul’s fingers comb through her hair as she sighs out. “So my **boss **is asking me whether she took me home last night... right?” She wants to be bold. Moon knows she can be, she knows that there was a time when she was fearless, why couldn’t she be like that right now?

“You don’t seem to remember what happened … ” her voice still retains the playful little glimmer as it did before, walking closer again. And in a way, she’s taking Solar’s role. The night before it had been Solar who’d approached Moon, but now it was the other way around.

It’s now that Moon realizes they might have been in earshot of others, so her voice **lowers**. “ _Want me to remind you?_ ” she says slickly. Solar’s stomach drops.

The two women should be deemed liars. So much of their time with one another was spent _**denying **_what was there. Why wouldn’t they give in? Solar swallows.

“**Go ahead**.”

A **smile**, small and mischievous.

She knows she could play it cool_, snake over_ **just **as Solar did, but the thought of **losing **this moment to reality shocks Moon into making a bolder statement.

Already close, but moving closer, Moon cups Solar’s cheek, eyes clearly taking in soft features. She leans in, waiting for Solar to stop her, but she **doesn’t**. And in the last second, she curves her neck, lips pressed against Solar’s ear.

The sensation sends _shivers _down Solar’s spine, her lips bracing for impact but receiving no release. If Moon’s goal was to attract Solar, it was **working**. " _**all **_i did was call you by your name. " it’s a whisper, but Solar sighs out. _Did Moon know what she was doing? _Did she know what she was doing to Solar?

This playful behavior was **dangerous**, especially in a place like this. " and _then _... " her hands move to grasp Solar’s waist, pulling thin form closer to hers, " you touched me like _this_. " fingertips move up and down solar’s back, the sensation tickling her slightly, Solar’s body arching in Moon’s direction, pushing them even closer. " and then you **pulled **my hair. ’

She once again awaits the feel , but once again Moon denies her of it, " —_but _you called me _**baby**_. " Moon licks her lips, leaning back only to look Solar straight in the face. " i **wanted **you after that. "

Solar’s cheeks burn as she stares back at Moon. She’d be **lying **if she said she didn’t remember some of this. She feels the _echoes _of the words she’d spoke, the _ghost _of the touches she’d made. She can’t deny herself anymore. “ Do you **still **want me?” it sounds so utterly _vulnerable _coming from Yongsun’s lips, a hint of desperation in her voice as her own hands touched Moon just like the night before.

A **nod**.

A _smirk_.

“ … you should get back to work, you know. ”

“ —yeah, Yongsun, _**why don’t you make me?**_ “

a breath.

And then, _finally_, a kiss. It’s **unclear **which one of them leaned forward first, but they’d both _**groaned **_when they finally kissed. It’s **desperate**, _fast_, filled with worry and **lust **and _relief_. Moon kisses _quickly_, pressing pecks against the other’s lips while Solar clearly craves something **long lasting**, and they work it out until they meet in the middle, both giving and pushing until Solar’s palms are pressed against her desk and Moon stands between her legs. The power lies **completely **in the younger, but neither of them mind it as they loved each other.

A break and a breath is **all **that separates them, Solar’s chest rising **quickly **as she tried to regain her breath, and a _laugh _from Moon as both foggy minds recovered. She pushes dark bangs back, staring at Yongsun with this funny expression on her face. She can **feel **Solar, the two of them finally _in tune _for a moment, she knows when she’ll speak, before words can come from her mouth. She doesn’t want to talk about it, they **can’t **ruin the moment.

She needs to **save **this, she needs to **have **this second secured in her mind as _perfect_.

Moon leaves the room, closing the door behind her, satisfied **completely **as she headed back to work, leaving Solar clearly unsatisfied. She isn't sure if she minded. There were still questions left unanswered, but surely Solar would realize if there was anything to regret, Moon would have told her.. “Where were you?” Wheein asks, but Moon can’t seem to mind the stern tone of her voice. “ Bathroom emergency. ” she lies easily, struggling to hide the **big smile **on her face while she continued her day.

—

**End of Chapter 7**


	8. Pushing and Pulling

  
  


“ Do you want to go to dinner with me? “

The words rang in Moon’s head as she walked beside Solar. She was nervous, but a _ different _ kind of nervous, the one where she was **excited** to see what was coming next, as opposed to the paralyzing sort of fear that usually struck. She’s still in disbelief, wondering how she’d gotten so … _ lucky? _ Was that the right word? Or was her and Solar being together an inevitability? Something that was written in the **Moon** and **Stars**, just waiting for one of them to take the first step?

It was no surprise that it was **Solar** who’d asked first. 

Moon’s hands run down her sides before fitting snug into her own pockets. It seemed to be an almost _ nervous _ habit of moving her hands, wanting **SOMETHING** to do while they walked along the pier. It was a bit _ too _ cold to be out here right now, the frost over the body of water only just starting to crack as the warmth of the _ sun _ seeped onto the icy shores. Holding her hand was a thought, but was that their _ thing? _ Would that be something Moon cared for, something that Moonbul looked forward to at the end of the day? Holding Solar’s hand? Touch-starved was one explanation, but ** _addicted_ ** was another. What would Moonbyul do if she never tired of the way their hands fit together? If the only thing that kept her going was holding Solar’s hand? It was best to hold off, **for now**. 

And the feel of jeans below her fingertips is only another reminder of how much she _ adored _ Solar. 

—

Only hours prior was Moonbyul sat in her bedroom, hair pulled into the tightest bun she could manage, wearing the only dress that she could find in her closet. She knew it was chilly, but this was what you wore on a date, right? Every decision she’d made stemmed from disgustingly well rooted self-loathing, uncertainty, and drilled in stereotypes all just dripping from the hem of the floral garment as she’d opened the door for Solar. 

**And The Look**.

The gaze of brown going up and down Moonbyul, taking her in, the smudged half-attempt at eyeliner, the all too bright pink of her lips that matched Moon’s cheeks. Did she look **bad? ** Did she try **too** hard? Not hard _ enough? _ A few steps taken back into her apartment. Whether it was an invitation inside or not, Solar took it that way, eyes familiarizing themselves with Moon’s home once more. And from behind a crack in the doorway, she could see the mess of clothing that littered Moonbyul’s floor. One catch of the eye and in seeps another streak of shame for Moonbyul. 

She hugged herself, cold, out of her element, skin exposed, she hated this but is confronted with only one sentence. “ Are you … _ comfortable _ in that? “

She **hadn’t** expected that. Moonbyul had almost hoped for a _ cancellation _ , an excuse to curl into bed and say wrapped up in blankets. Her eyes hadn’t even bothered to look at Solar’s ensemble, surely it would only make her feel **WORSE** , but Moon has no choice but to succumb to the urge. She looked powerful, blouse and pants and heels, oh, _ the heels _. Moon was fond of the heels. She looked toned, beautiful, dominating. 

It’s a long while of dodging looks and starts of sentences before Moon can squeeze out her tiniest, “ **no** . ” because _ of course _ , **OF COURSE**—she wasn’t comfortable. Solar, on the other hand, seemed like there was nothing that could possibly make her less in control.

“ go change. ” Moon likes being ordered around.

But she needs to explain, “ I--I just wanted you to think I was _ pretty _ . . . ”

Sometimes Moonbyul broke Solar’s heart into little pieces. She was something to _ fix _ , a baby to cradle and to nurture. She almost does so now, almost tell her just ** _how pretty_ ** she was, how much she _ really _ thought of her, but she **doesn’t** . Solar adored Moonbyul, but she admired the **stronger** parts of her. _ In her office. _ That was the Moonbyul that Solar would fight for, and it couldn’t come from anything except for a _ nudge _ in the right direction. Solar smiles, laughing slightly at Moonbyul, but in the lightest of ways, “ You know, this date is for ** _both_ ** of us, right? — what’s the point of us going out if **you** won’t be comfortable? ” think she was pretty? Solar resisted the urge to bite down on her lower lip, not wanting to smudge her lipstick, but she thought Moon was _ unbearably _ beautiful. 

Something hard to look at. They **both** felt undeserving of the other’s attention. 

Their date had been _ perfect _ afterwards, though. It hadn’t taken Moonbyul long at all to change into jeans, to put her hair down so fringe could once again cover her forehead. In hiding her body, Moon felt freer, less exposed in every way. She preferred that, and Solar noticed. Solar really noticed.

And now, bellies **full** and more than a couple sips of soju on their lips, they walked. It was silent, but the _ good _ kind, where you could hear the rustles around them, creaks in the wood, soft breaths. They worked in the same direction, looking forward with the intention of turning right back around when the pier would inevitably end. It seemed like neither of them wanted the night to end, but it would have to eventually, right?

But just for tonight they wanted to be together. They needed this, **both** of the women. They needed a night where their lives didn’t matter, where they could love endlessly, not worry about who or what they were, how they’d gotten there. Why either of them had liked the other in the first place. Life was exhausting the two of them, draining them dry . . . but they acted as each other's fountain of youth, **pushing and pulling **the life and the energy and the power.

On the pier things were simple. Solar could look down at Moon’s boots (now currently tucked under Moon’s arm as they walked barefoot) and _ smile _ without an interest in know **WHY** she always wore _ them—especially _ now that she had the salary to wear … _ anything else _ . No, all yongsun wants is standing right beside her. And she ** _doesn’t_ ** hesitate, grabbing Moons hand with a smile. It was _ cold _ . _ Hold my hand _ , she thinks. _ Kiss me _, she thinks. How much nerve did Solar have?

And fuck, Moonbyul feels like she’s on the top of the world, all she can think is “ _ Thank you Wheein _. ” cause if it wasn’t for her, Moon wouldn’t be here . . . 

—

She knew that this day would come eventually, she just didn’t know it would be this **SOON** . Groggily, moonbyul climbed out of her bedroom and stumbled into the bathroom. And there was a part of her that was _ glad _ she still had to wake up this early, an excuse to stick to her newly made skin routine. She’s tried to keep it going a couple of times in the past months, but the second the weekend hit, she’d sleep through the morning and forget about it. 

It’d been a week or so since she’d stepped foot in Solar’s office, and she felt … good. _ Consistently _ good throughout the entire week. She hadn’t even seen much of the woman besides glances while they each worked, but she could **FEEL** that little smile Solar gave off. It was almost like a gift, to have this. The Before. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t think about Solar late at night, let her fingers trace over where Solar had kissed, consider where else she would kiss her. It seemed like with any downtime, the first thing on Moon’s mind would be _ Yongsun _. 

**The Before** . She loved the thought of it, the knowingness from both of the women, that this couldn’t be for _ nothing _ , right? Something **had **to happen. They stood on the edge of a cliff, inching closer and closer, but which one of them would jump first?

And she knows she has a habit of romanticizing things, of getting caught up with the thought of what they **COULD **be, but life could be boring—her fantasies were endless. 

And even she didn’t **WANT **to be here today, it was time for Moon to pay up. 

Wheein had selected the absolute _ best _ shift for Moon to cover. ** Stock day.** The one day where it would just be Moon and Solar, alone completely but with a mountain of work. She’s making a mental note to get better at cards, palm pushing the glass doors open.

And seeing the place like this—empty—was really … an _ experience _. It was easy to not be charmed by the outside, the restaurant hugged by restaurants that weren’t nearly as classy, but inside? Warm brown woods and tall ceilings. More often than not her view was obstructed by a brisk walk towards the back or coming in straight from the staff entrance, but now she can see the restaurant in it’s full glory. 

Solar had thought a lot about what she would say when she saw Moon again. It seemed with each passing week, the tension between the two women would rise and rise until it climaxed in something chaotic and _ messy _ and probably not very healthy for either of them— but Solar couldn’t bring herself to say what she really wanted, at least not now. 

She remembered the taste of Moon on her lips. 

And if anything, Solar was the opposite. She **HATED** _The Before_. She hated the waiting, she wanted to fall, wanted to dive in deep into their affair, kiss Moon, maybe even bury her face _between_ thin thighs if given the opportunity, she **couldn’t** wait. Even if she knew of the inevitable, it didn’t make the wait any less excruciating. 

It was **her** turn. She knew that, Solar **knew** that it was up to her to make the next move. Moon had kissed her— or they’d kissed _ eachother— _ or something, but either way Solar felt the ball was in her court.

Still, though, the desire for Moon to push Solar against her desk again was not a foreign one. 

She’d hoped for something more, hoped for Moon to say something to her as they’d counted utensils and chairs, placed orders. An expectant look would be shot in Moons direction as Solar silently begged her _ please say something—anything. _ But Moon **Doesn’t**. 

Cause she knows too. 

She felt _ disgusting _ , sweat beading from her forehead as they moved things and rearranged the floor, but Moon seemed to work with ease— lifted tables like they were nothing. Solar couldn’t help but notice just how cute a moon looked with a pencil between her teeth, eyebrows furrowed as she kept count of everything. And whenever Solar would ogle for too long, they’d exchange a glance, one that read ‘ _ let’s hurry this up so we can get home _ ‘ but Moonbyul was so ** _distracting_ **.

And when they’d finally finished up, Solar had realized she **missed** her chance, that in their near silence there were a million and one opportunities to just talk to Moon, to say her feelings and yet she’d kept the words to herself. She’d sulked, hesitating to pack her own things and slowly making her way through the restaurant. She _ almost _ followed Moon, checking behind the woman to be sure that everything was done but they had been surprisingly thorough. Other times with Wheein had taken twice the amount of time— then again with Wheein there wasn’t a gigantic **elephant** in the room.

And Moon was disappointed, too. She felt almost neglected by their lack of conversation, moody and frustrated with Solar. All she wanted was for Solar to say that their moments weren’t just .. flukes, that there was actually something budding between them, but Solar had treated it like nothing had happened. Or, at least, that’s how Moon felt. She was cold, shut out and biting her tongue because it had to be Solar, right? 

Despite her aggravation, she’d kept rude comments to herself. Ones about how she could see the streak of foundation melting from Solar’s temples or how Solar **SUCKED** at this— how had she managed without Moon by her side? And surely any of these would clear the air, make things lighter, but the selfish part of Moonbyul LIKES the pressure, it would push the other woman to _ do something _.

She’d given up, finally opting to just .. go home. Bag slung over shoulder, Moonbyul already fantasized about how nice a bath sounded right now, a face mask, some wine she’d get on the way home, maybe, and _ maybe _ even ——

But she’s torn from her thoughts, a soft hand placed against her shoulder. And the look in Yongsun’s eyes, she’ll never forget it, blinking and distant, but the words had come out so quickly that she almost missed them.

“ ** _Do you want to go to dinner with me?_ ** “

And of course she would say yes.

—-

It’s late. Moon nods towards a hut in the distance, bare feet lightly kicking sand into the water as they held hands, “ I think there might be an ice cream shop right there … do you think it’s open? “ February air brushed passed them as if to say _ stay away, _but the warmth between digits is enough to kee the women toasty. Solar spots the slightest glimmer of light from the building, and murmurs, “ one way to find out, right? “

They **both** liked things better this way. They could breathe easily, each one of them offering a squeeze of their palms as they made their way to the hut. 

Moon orders for them, holding Solar close and pressing a soft kiss to the corner of her lips when she finishes. 

One Strawberry sundae, **two spoons** . _ Extra whipped cream. _

And as they shared bites, cuddled close behind the store so not to draw attention, they kissed cream from each others lips, smiled strawberry and giggled as they made a silent promise that this would stay between them, that this had been perfect and that moments like this were few. So they had to savor each little bite, and hope that no storm would crash and that the moon would keep the tide steady…

—

**END OF CHAPTER 8**

—

**A/N** : hey guys! I’m back !! Sorry for the long loooong break but I hope you like this chapter! Next chapter is … a doozy so !! Stick around!! 

If you liked this give some love in the forms of comments and likes or whatever I’d super appreciate it!! Ok thank you bye ♥♥


	9. I love you, but "I Can't"

TW: anxiety, panic attacks, sex ( ;) )

—  
  


The people who decided things about relationships were  **wrong** .

Moon had followed blindly behind the thoughts of lovers  _ everywhere _ , but with Solar it was different. This was the way it was supposed to be.

The first few weeks were worrisome for Moonbyul, walking on eggshells as she wondered when their honeymoon period would end— when they’d lose the puppy love and start resenting one another, just like she had in every other relationship. But it never happened. And maybe it was because they took things slow.

**Horribly slow.**

Like they were afraid to prod too deep and puncture a hole in their paradise. 

Every date felt like the first one. A perfect little escape from their lives outside of Them. And even though they’d intended for things to stay between the two of them, anyone who knew either woman caught on immediately. 

Most notably was Moon’s mother. The tears Moonbyul shed when she’d heard her mom’s voice, several corgi’s little barks in the background—the two noises that meant: home. How long had it been since she’d seen her family? It wasn’t like there was any hostility, any bad blood, why had she isolated herself? And the feeling when she finally saw her family again. Indescribable. She wouldn’t be alone again.

And Solar felt the same. Once the two of them decided to just Be, nearly everything felt easier. They didn’t text. They  _ called _ . Even if neither of them had something to say. 

It was almost  **harder ** to be together, harder to be only ** ten feet ** away from one another, but still busy. They’d promised to be  **professional** , that Solar’s work was  _ important  _ especially because it was  _ dangerous _ . Obviously beyond the restaurant. It was easy for Moonbyul to  ** _forget _ ** how she’d met Solar in the first place. Forget the scars and the violence and the money. They never talked about that, though. Never about the hard stuff, never about the shit that lied underneath the green grass. 

In fact, when Solar thought about it, what  **DID ** they talk about? Weeks into the relationship and Solar could comb through her information on Moonbyul. She  _ liked  _ Solar’s hair in a ponytail, favorite color had changed to yellow,  **didn’t ** like when her food touched, but what did Solar  ** _really _ ** know? She wanted the  **important ** things. Missing out on those important things made Solar feel like a shitty girlfriend. How had she not known that Moonbyul’s birthday was only a month ago? Was it because she didn’t ask or because Moon didn’t tell her? She didn’t care. Solar  **never ** wanted to miss something like that again,  **never ** wanted to lose a nice day with Moonbyul.

They spent Saturdays together. Almost every Saturday cuddled close together, always at Solar’s place, where they would watch a movie together, kiss eachother soft and fall asleep before either one of them got any  _ ideas _ .

But tonight.

She couldn’t focus on the television. She couldn’t focus on Byulie’s touch, no, all she could think about were Moonbyul’s  _ shoes _ . Maybe it wasn’t the shoes themselves, but instead what they  **MEANT** . Even when close, there was so much about her girlfriend that was a  _ mystery  _ to Solar. They’d been living in the honeymoon phase for  too long . Yes, it was sweet and lovely and everything Solar had needed, but it held no depth, no form. It was beautiful,  _ amber _ , but clear and runny and would eventually get sucked up—Solar needed  **more** . 

And she’s never prodded with Moon before, not  _ really _ , not with the soft intentions that she has right now, but she needs to know. She approaches the question by scooting closer, tugging the blankets further upwards to consume them in warmth. With her head nuzzled in the crook of Moon’s neck, she murmurs, “ baby? ” she  ** _loves _ ** calling her baby, “ how come you always wear those boots? ”

Moon’s unsure as to why the question brings her so much  **panic** , makes her fingers twitch for a moment before she relaxes again. It’s true that Moon could be hard on herself, unforgiving of even the smallest bits of failures, but her shoes were …  _ penance  _ in their own way. Clunky and thick and looked dirty even with the slightest speck of dirt on them. They’d acted as a symbol for Moon’s mistakes.

It’s now that she has hit a crossroads, a fork, the determining factor on what kind of girlfriend Moonbyul would be. A good one or a ** _ bad one?_ ** It seems like an easy answer, that Solar deserved a good girlfriend and honesty. 

But, fuck, if Moonbyul was terrified of being vulnerable, how was she supposed to do  _ any  _ of that?

“ I . . .” she lets her voice get drowned out by the t.v. —god she’s  _ nervous  _ now, why is she _ so nervous? _ Breathe, breathe.  **Honesty** . She deserved that. “ I  **stole ** them. ” she expected a pull away, but instead Solar turns with interest. It’s silent for a second as Solar searched for the remote to silence the t.v. 

“ Talk to me. ” 

She wants to lie, hide _everything_, hide her shame, but the second she sees those **eyes**. She looked so .. _earnest_, beautiful, _oh my god_—and Moon’s heart beats louder than she ever thought it could. _God, I love you_. She thinks. But, shit, her thoughts scare her more than the situation ever could, so Moon speaks. “ I-I worked at a clothing store, and we sold, like, thi-this _really _high-end shit, I never really **_got _**it, but it paid well enough for me to live so it was ok. ” she curses herself, _i’m so stupid, i’m so stupid_. The thoughts nearly silence her, but Solar sends her strength, squeezes her hand. **_Fuck_**_, I love her so much._ Another breath.

“ I was, kinda, just  _ barely  _ making it through so it wasn’t like I could afford to get anything nice on the side, but it was getting so  _ cold  _ and my sneakers were, like,  falling apart in the snow.” she brings herself to look at Solar. It was the first time she’d ever said it to anyone, and saying the words out loud it felt . . .  _ not  _ as serious. Like it  **wasn’t ** the worst thing that could happen to someone, but it  _ still  _ left Moon feeling empty, feeling stripped. She hated it, hated that she couldn’t convey how it had gutted her to lose  ** _everything_ ** . She just wanted Solar to understand.

But Moon didn’t get that she  **DID and didn’t** . Solar’s eyes were wide as she listened. It was less of a connection through words, more through  _ feeling _ , Solar could see the stress on Moon’s features, catch that fleeting look in her eyes. “ So I  ** _stole _ ** my boots from my job—I figured I  _ wouldn’t  _ get caught, I thought even if I did it wouldn’t matter because I just needed them  **TO ** get to work, but they  _ fired  _ me.” — “I felt like a  _ criminal _ . I mean, I know I did something  **BAD** , but . . . ’ tears burn at the corner of Moonbyul’s eyes. “And i couldn’t find a job, I couldn’t buy food, or pay my bills . . . it was so  _ hard  _ and I just feel like, like I  **can’t ** fuck up like that again. I  ** _can’t _ ** make a mistake, no wrong moves or else it could all get ruined again, this is all too important to me now.  _ You’re——-  _ ” she breathes. Solar sends her strength. Again. 

You matter to me. 

More as friend, even as lover, the two women held one another on a set of beautiful pedastals. 

“ I love you. ”

“ . . . _ what? _ ”

Solar didn’t know how to deal with this, how to take care of Moon when she got upset, but she needed to give her something, some sort of reassurance that said that she was there, so Solar repeats herself. “I love you, byul. ”

_ She loved me. She loves me. She loves me.  _ “I love you, too.” and Moon can breathe again. 

  
—————  
  
  


After that day, it was like things had shifted. Life for the two women had gotten harder, but easier at the same time. It was like a gateway had been opened, spouts spewing the nastier parts of the two of them. Moon had told her,  _ don’t tell me about your work _ . Solar respected that. Being in love meant accepting the uglier parts of the other. It was difficult, but they were working at it. And easier because their hearts didn’t feel nearly as heavy. They could talk about real shit, and in that way, their honeymoon period only kept going. They were happier with each other.

It was a Saturday like it always was, Moonbyul sat on one side of the couch, Solar on the other. They hadn’t said I love you more than the first time, but the words were always in the air between them. Tonight, though, there was more than just love. 

It was like Moonbyul couldn’t keep her eyes off of Solar. Brown hues stayed focused on the pretty lines of the woman, features illuminated only by the glow of the television. She followed the roundness of her cheeks, admired her pretty clear skin, wanted to kiss under her jaw, gaze falling to the curve of her breasts. How had they never pushed the boundaries this way, yet? They’d been dating for nearly two months, and yet neither one of them had ever gone past making out, but now Moon was thinking about it again. 

She extends a leg, nudging the other lightly underneath the blankets. Solars gaze never breaks from the t.v., but the corner of her lips pull. And Moon takes that as a sign to pounce.

She shifts, legs tucked underneath her as she crawled closer to Solar. She was like a lioness, approaching her prey, head tilting slow and slight as she eyed her target. 

Her intentions not so pure, the lion expects nothing but a small embrace, but always hopes for more as lips press soft against skin. There’s a fire in her eyes, burning bright and needy as she bit down on her lip. 

“  _ yongsun _ . . .” singsong, whispered in her ear. Solar feels chills run down her spine but stays determined, keeps her eyes locked on the screen.  _ Maybe _ , she wants to see what Moon will do to her. 

“ _ Look _ at me, baby.”

“ no . . .”

She’s practically in her lap, lips dragging against her skin slow, biting soft and marking Solar as hers. The tiniest of moans falls from Solar, breathing out as she shifted. 

The elder runs fingers through Moon’s hair and the younger  _ purrs _ , chin lifting as Byul made it her goal to be the ultimate distraction. “ yongsun, I  _ want  _ you.”

Solar isn’t dumb, but she knew how things worked between the two of them. They yearned, for far too long, until finally the pressure would collapse onto them and they’d give in. Solar liked that. She liked the waiting, the teasing, the lack of saying anything while really saying everything, but right now she’s done with waiting. 

She stands abruptly, grabbing Moon’s hand and dragging her along. She expects the younger to follow willingly, but Moonbyul tugs back. Playfully, Moon smiles, hair disheveled, overgrown bangs covering her eyes as she pulled Solar close to her, just for a moment to press her lips hotly against the other. She wanted this. 

It hadn’t set in until practically thrown onto the bed that Moonbyul had never been inside of Solar’s bedroom before. She would have to wait until morning to truly appreciate the extra slice of intimacy, but for now, all she can think of is how bad she wants to see Solar’s body. They push and pull, Solar smiling. Who is Yongsun? This. She’s this. She wasn’t a facade of strength, nor a beacon of nostalgia to cater to an audience, she was the sun. Burning hot and always there and waiting for her Moon. The moon that saw both sides of the sun and loved them both. She could almost cry right now, wants to flick on the lights if only to see Moonbyul better in her beauty, but she wouldn’t dare pull away, not now.

Moon’s more desperate, hands reaching for the button of Solar’s jeans. She wants to know her, touch her, taste her for the first time. It felt like dreaming, floating, breathless and needy every time they kiss.  _ Fuck me.  _ Moonbyul thinks to herself,  _ I want you to fuck me.  _ But it would always be more than that, she couldn’t cheapen their love. Everything with Solar would be more than that. 

  
  


“ I love you.”

“ I love you, too.”

It doesn’t matter who says it first, but it stops both of them. Sparkles and lightning between them, they cup one another’s cheeks and melt into each other. And it can only last for a second, they know that, Moonbyul pushing Solar back onto the bed, situated between her legs. She’s still fully clothed, but Moonbyul likes Solar like this, with her hair messy, edge of her panties poking from underneath unbuckled jeans, stomach exposed as her shirt rode up. “ god, you’re so sexy, do you know that?” and Moonbyul earns a laugh, loud and squealing as Solar sit up to tug off her own shirt.

She tosses the fabric anywhere, just as fast to reach for her bra and get rid of it too. Moon lets her fingertips trace hearts and stars across Solar’s chest, likes the way Solar moans when she touches her breasts. She trails kisses down the middle, can hear Solar breathing fast.  _ I love you. _

Teeth pull at the fabric of her underwear, “ Fuck. ” Solar mutters, before turning them over. 

She’s even sexier this way, Solar straddling Moon, now, dark locks are thrown over either shoulder, just barely covering her areolas. Moon thinks she looks beautiful, like a woman of nature, graceful and beautiful and boundless. She wants this, she does.

But then, she doesn’t. Then she can’t breathe.

She’s unsure if it was turning her head, seeing herself in the  _ mirror  _ tucked into the corner of Solar’s bedroom, or if it was Solar’s hands on her body. _ I need a shower. _ It’s the first and only thought that goes through her brain before she’s grabbing Solar’s wrists, stopping her. “Wait, wait, wait.” before she knows it, tears are falling, chest heaving, and Solar stops immediately. She’s blinking away tears, scrambling to sit up and pull the blankets over herself. “ I can’t.” it’s muffled by the blankets, panic set through her body. “ I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I——- ” 

Breathe. Solar speaks, tugging the blankets from Moon’s head. Worry clear on her features, and in those few seconds already with her top back on. She holds Moon, cradles her head, careful not to touch anywhere else. “ It’s ok, Moon, it’s ok. ” Moon believes her, but her body doesn’t listen, shaking and crying and holding onto Solar’s arms like it was the last thing she would ever do. 

_ Is it my fault? _ Solar wonders, but the way Moon held onto her, Solar doubted the problem was that superficial. 

They loved each other, breathed each other in as Moon slowly calmed down. And they hold each other until sleep takes them. 

—

**End of Chapter 9**

**A/N**: hey guys ! hope you liked the update ! please leave likes/comments/any sort of love if you liked it! Lemme know what you thought of this chapter (the good and the bad are appreciated) — thanks so much !!


	10. The Truth.

**The truth** . Sometimes Ahn Hyejin felt as if she was a  _ side character  _ in her own life. Like her day didn’t actually begin until she went to work—like her life revolved around  **Solar’s** . It had always been like that, the younger falling behind in Solar’s footsteps. Everything for Yongsun seemed to be  _ easy _ , to fall into place. No one would talk about how Solar’s family had helped Hwasa’s, no one would talk about how Solar had given her a job. Failure after failure and Solar was always there with open arms to tell Hwasa she was  _ amazing _ , that she was beautiful and that even if no one else saw it, Solar did.

Hwasa had sort of a love and hate relationship with those words.

She  **knew ** her, Hwasa liked to believe she knew her better than anybody, most times herself. And she was  ** _protective_ ** . Maybe because Solar had done such a good job protecting Hyejin. Love and resentment had a funny way of twisting into one another, but Hwasa wasn’t without her own life.

Why was it that nights spent humming as she sewed together ensembles always fell to the back burning when Solar needed to vent? Did she mind being there for her friend? Yes and no. 

Hwasa kept  **secrets** . From  **everyone** . Secrets were the only way she could feel  _ real _ , where she could feel like her own person, aside from Solar. 

She’d neglected to tell Solar about her  **boyfriend** , whom she’d been seeing for  ** _months_ ** .

Neglected to tell Wheein about just how many sweaters she’d left at Hwasa’s place.

And Moon. 

Hwasa liked Moonbyul simply because  **Solar ** liked Moonbyul. She thought the woman was  _ dirty _ , lowly, bad at her job and an eyesore. She didn’t understand why Solar, someone  _ so  _ beautiful and deserving, would find love in someone like Moonbyul.

“ Thanks for meeting me. ”

**A bistro ** miles from where they worked, Hwasa sipped slow from her glass. She  _ liked  _ having power over Moonbyul, could tell when the meek woman was intimidated or attracted. Brunch was  _ so  _ fucking pretentious, yet Hwasa used it as a tool. Without a doubt, Moonbyul would be underdressed, order the wrong things, eat too much, or too little. Solar only pretended to know about these traditions, but Hwasa was a  **master** . She was medusa and aphrodite, so beautiful she’d turn people into stone, either out of shock or awe. A little  _ too  _ flirtatious, always teasing, she places a palm over Moon’s, raising her eyes to see that she was right.

About the wardrobe, anyways.

Would it kill Moonbyul to get a haircut? To pluck her eyebrows? Hwasa would offer to do it herself if it didn’t mean being so close to Moon. Moonbyul slowly pulls her hand from Hwasa’s.

And she knew she was right from the beginning, knew that** Moon would hurt Solar.** _Her Solar_. There’s no faux niceties, her head tilting as Moon sat down. “ I ordered you something, already—_don’t worry_, **I’ll pay**, I **know **you don’t have the money.” Power, manipulation. She grins.

For half a second, they’d  _ almost  _ been friends. After the poker night, Hwasa thought Moonbyul to be somewhat clever. But then she’d heard about what had happened afterwards. And everything inbetween then and now. Solar really had a habit of giving too much detail. 

It  **pissed ** Hwasa off. Who did Moonbyul think she was to be playing with Solar’s feelings? Like she was worth  _ anything?  _ This worthless disgusting woman had stepped into Solar’s life, demanded things from her. Time, a job, and she’d gotten it  **all** . Why was Solar being so nice to her? Maybe Hwasa was a little bit bugged that her friend’s actions were driven by  **attraction** .

And so it brought her here. Her best friend was  **too ** nice. Hwasa  **knew ** what needed to be done. She knew that it obviously couldn’t be her to do it, that Solar would never listen when it came to Moonbyul, but Moon might . . . 

** _Break up with Solar_ ** . She almost says the words outloud, but raising her gaze to Moon, seeing how pitiful the other was, thinking about how happy Solar had been the past few weeks, she doesn’t. 

Solar hadn’t disclosed their attempt at intimacy, nor Moon’s panic attack, but Hwasa could tell when something was off with Solar. Slow texts back, hesitation when it came to  _ taking care  _ of people who didn’t pay off their loans. Hwasa just wanted the best for Solar, just wanted her best friend to do her best. Not be dragged down by Moonbyul.

What goals did the woman have? 

But was it Hwasa’s place?

On her drive over here, she’d convinced herself that of course it was. That her years with Solar gave her this right, but now sitting infront of Moonbyul. She’s distracting herself by sipping more wine, playing with her food before she finally speaks.

“ I was the one who’d been bringing you food.” The truth.  **Finally** . Maybe not the truth she’d intended on spilling initially, but the truth nonetheless.

Moonbyul looks confused.

“Like— those first few months, outside your door.  **That ** was me. Not Solar. ”

And before Moonbyul could get any ideas. “ I felt bad for you.”

“. . .  _ Why? _ ”

She drinks again. “ Because I knew Solar liked you. And I thought you were kind of  _ pathetic  _ on the floor of the restaurant.. ” — “ The first time was just a hunch, but after you took it, I knew you must’ve been hungry.” She’d stolen the address from Solar’s records, hoped that if Moonbyul was taken care of for a short while, she’d leave them alone. But like a stray cat, Moon had returned. For good. She’d be nice at the restaurant, of course. She didn’t want to anger her friend, despite her bad taste in women. 

They brew in the silence, Moon not touching the food in front of her. Hwasa’s  _ almost  _ offended.

When she finishes her glass of wine, a smile is offered. “ You know, you should be saying _ thank you _ .”

  
  


Moonbyul had, had some  _ reservations  _ about coming here. Only the night before, her and Solar had, had an awful night. Well—— an awful  **moment** . She’d woken up in Solar’s arms, feeling horrible. Why did this shit keep happening to her? She’d thought that with Solar by her side, things like  **anxiety ** and  **stress ** would fall to the side. Everything was going good right now. _ But I’m still fucked up. _

Solar wasn’t the answer. 

She thought the words when traveling, stepping off of the bus. It was time to _ shed her boots _ . She knew it was. Every day the sun threatened to burn hotter, spring was almost here. Despite her many trips to different outlets, she couldn’t bring herself to ever buy anything.

She doesn’t know why she thought her and Hwasa were friends. Maybe it was because she was on short supply, but Moonbyul  **HAD ** to know that friendship wasn’t just saying hello and goodbye. Wheein was her friend. She knew that for sure, but Hwasa? Catching Hwasa fading away was always something Moonbyul enjoyed. She could see that she didn’t want to be working at the restaurant, that she longed for other things, saw herself as better than this. Moon didn’t disagree.

She’d spent all of her time worrying about whether Hwasa liked her but never stopped to ask herself … did she even like Hwasa? Strip down pretty features and all Moon saw was a bitch. Solar could see more because they’d been together forever. Wheein and Hwasa just clicked. But Moon? No.

Sitting here only confirms it. She wouldn’t say it out loud, but fuck her. Fuck the food she’d brought, fuck this bistro, fuck this phony attempt at being nice. “ You want me to say thank you?” 

She thought about movies, how now would be the perfect time to throw a drink, slap Hwasa and call her out of her name, but then she thought about Solar.

Not just Solar’s feelings, but Solar… How much of her initial attraction was because she’d thought Solar had done those nice things for her? Why am I such a mess? She asks herself, twiddling thumbs, jaw set. Fuck you, she says it with her eyes, squinting. How had they been sitting here for nearly thirty minutes and said nothing? Done nothing?

Look at Hwasa. She was everything. Solar needed a friend like this, right? Someone strong. Moon wasn’t strong. I want to be strong. She tells herself. Solar deserved someone beautiful.

If it wasn’t for Solar, would Moon be feeling better? These months, not even with her, but near her, would Moon still be a wreck without Solar? 

How am I supposed to be a good girlfriend if Solar can’t depend on me to have my shit together?

She almost speaks again, lips parting to tell Hwasa she was leaving, but Hyejin beats her to the punch. The vixen stands, almost abruptly, tossing money haphazardly onto the table. “Do whatever you want..” Hwasa murmurs. Moon swallows, looking up at her. Hwasa thought she would break Solar. Would she?

_ Will I? _

——

A/N : hey again friends ! super fast update, huh? I wanted to say thanks again for reading this, and that there are few chapters left ! Maybe around 3 chapters left, and a lot happens in them so uh buckle up. I actually planned this entire fic from the end backwards so my favorite chapters are definitely upcoming. Leave a comment with your thoughts (those always inspire me to write faster ngl) and lemme know what you thought about hwasas perspective !! 

I know I’ve been teasing you guys a bunch with smut but trust that uh .. it’s coming. Stay tuned ajgkads.


	11. I'm Fucked Up

“We should break up.”

**Six months ago.** Those four words had gutted Solar, ripper her insides out and left her numb. 

They broke up  **six months ago.**

Who was Kim Yongsun? Solar no longer knew. 

She remembers Moon’s fingers, trembling and picking at her nails. She remembers how worn down they were, uneven from biting, scratchings of pink littered from where Solar had once painted them. Months. Mere months together and Moon had clawed her way inside of Solar—and she never left.

She sees her now. Solar is unsure where her anger is directed. She sees Moon, sees the woman she’d become in the time they were apart. Her hair royal, long, beautiful  _ purple _ . The color still stained Moon’s hair net, leaving litters of blues and purpleson the tips of her fingers. 

Solar was in love with those stains. 

She was .. polished. Solar saw life in Moons eyes, the desire to live that wasn’t there when they were together. Moon had gained weight, flushed out features, filled out breasts.

She was a coloring book before Solar, bare and waiting. Solar had expected to be the one to color her in, to redden her cheeks and crinkle her eyes, but no.

Moonbyul colored herself in. 

  
  


There was a strength Moonbyul mustered when breaking up with Solar. It lit something inside of her. 

Solar had easily become Moonbyul’s entire life. A smile couldn’t touch her lips until she saw Solar and kissed her. Moon didn’t think there was anything wrong with that at first, but when she thought about it, when she  _ really _ thought about it, she could see the cracks in their love.

There were spaces and crevices that their darkness crept into. She wanted to love the woman endlessly and entirely, but how could she give herself if she wasn’t really whole. 

“I love you.” She followed the first set of words. Sat across from Solar at the same bistro her and Hwasa spoke at. “But I need to be alone right now.”

Solar didn’t ask why. She didn’t demand answers nor did she cry. It was  _ frightening _ , watching Solar turn into stone before her. 

It wasn’t just about the sex, Moonbyul’s stress wasn’t from the sex. “You can’t even touch me, how are we supposed to be together?”

The ultimate betrayal, her body over her heart. As much as she wanted to be with Solar, she was uncomfortable inside of her own body, a stranger to her skin. _ I need help and Solar can’t help me.  _

_ I need to be alone.  _ It was the easiest explanation. 

A certain kind of maturity she hadn’t ever thought she was capable of.

Moonbyul couldn’t say how deeply she hated herself, nor could she explain how she felt inside of her body. At least, not without Solar—being an amazing girlfriend—telling Moon how much she loved her and how much she thought of her. But Moon couldn’t handle that right now. 

Regardless of how Solar felt, Moonbyul believed that she wasn’t good enough for Solar. And for that reason, for all of the self loathing and anxiety and stress, she wasn’t ready for them. 

A good relationship needed to be about both of them, but Moonbyul could feel her sense of self slipping, feel the desire to cater to Solar only.

Her recognizing that this needed to end was a good thing.

  
  


And even after, Solar didn’t cry. It was easy to throw herself into her work. Maybe it was her way of lashing out, but lending money had become her priority. Cracking the whip on due dates became her drug, the power and the liquor kept her drunk enough to forget about the pain of losing Moon. Of having to watch her grow and grow— stronger and better.

She loved Moonbyul… Was proud of her. But she hated her. 

Silence had been their friends for the past 6 months. They wouldn’t talk, and if ever then only about the restaurant, but there was an unfinished feeling to everything between them. 

_ Im fucked up _ .

Solar had always thought herself to be next to normal, but a particularly shitty night with enough alcohol to take anyone out, left her with the realization.  _ I’m fucked up. _ And she wasn’t fucked up because of Moonbyul. Moon meant a lot to her, but Solar knew her problems ran deep. 

Moon had passed her pain onto Solar, given her every bit of the pearl of hurt inside of her chest. As Moon unraveled the angry burden of herself, let herself be happy, Solar picked the pieces up, raised the pearl to her eye only to see herself for what she was.

_ Fucked up _ .

_ I need help. I’m a monster. _

The angry words never reflected her outsides. If anything, Solar made it her job to look better than she ever had. A haircut, bleached hair. Her outsides felt fresh, but her insides still rotted. I miss my dad.

_ I hurt people. I’m hurt. I’m hurting. _ ** _ I’m fucked up._ **

Maybe it was control. Maybe it was a grasp at anything have did have power over. She couldn’t stop Moon from leaving her, couldn’t stop her dad from passing. But I can control other people.

She was lost, almost gone forever in an ocean of guilt, sadness and regrets. 

_ I don’t want my restaurant anymore. I don’t want this. I want to be free. _

But without her restaurant, what did she want? Any dreams and aspirations were pouring into a career she wasn’t passionate about and something nasty, green moss growing further over the stone of Solar.

It felt like all she was doing was hovering, circling her problems like a bird preparing to attack his prey, yet Solar never attacked. She never took real risks, left the hard work to body guards— stayed in the back, dressed lavishly for .. no one to see her.

She was a facade, a shadow of a person.

She always has been, but Moon had shown her that mirror. 

_ I think I hate myself. _

It’s the worst thing she’s ever thought.  _ I am nothing. _

Desire was Moonbyul— Solars dream had become a reality, yet Solar was not even close to light wispies nor cotton candy.

I want her.

Solar wanted her so badly, wanted everything about Moonbyul to be hers. She just wanted the hard part to be over, for them to be happy together, retired in a place where Solars work didn’t matter and Moons debt didn’t matter. 

But maybe it was never about Moonbyul. 

Moon had finally blossomed into a woman. She was Solar’s strength, she was Solar’s ambition.

Just as Solar took Moon’s sadness, Moonbyul stole Solar’s .. soul. 

_ I need help. I can’t do this alone _ . 

**Six months ** of brewing turned Solar into a nasty mess. She was bitter, angry most days, harsh on others and far too prideful to confide in anyone— god forbid the words sorry ever come from her lips.

  
  


And today, ** six months** on the dot. Why did Solar still keep count? She made the attempt to ignore Moon, not insert herself into the life of a woman she once loved, but working with her did not make it easy. 

Jo Eunae. That was her name. Solar had heard Moonbyul mention Eunae more than once, never prodded or poked or tried to find out more, just brewed in the hopes that Moon would stay single, no matter how toxic that was. 

But today, Solar saw her. 

Tall, very tall, far too tall. Did Moon like girls who looked like that? Without a doubt, Solar found Eunae pretty, thought soft features and quite voice were cute, but the second Moon approaches her, Solar is fuming.

A kiss, fast and practiced and fitting. Solar hates how nice they look together, how closesly Eunae held Moonbyul’s hands. Solar should be working, but all she can do is watch as Moon looked at Eunae with heart eyes.

_ Did Moonbyul ever look at me like that? _

_ Was it me? Was I the problem? _

For three weeks, Eunae picked Moonbyul up from work. Always with a kiss, always with a remembered feeling to hold her hand. Solar always watched, always put herself through the pain, because it was better to look at Moon than not at all. 

  
  


And Moonbyul. 

She _ was _ stronger. Although she didn’t exactly broadcast it, she’d gotten help. 

For the first time in .. ever, Moonbyulvfwlt she was almost whole again. She felt complete, satisfied. She didn’t have to love herself 100%, she just had to remember the things that she was supposed to love.  _ I love my hair, the wispies that fall when I put it up, i love how nice my skin is, even when I’m too lazy to take care of it. I love that tune I thought of the other day. I love life.  _

She wasn’t perfect—not even close, but over the ** six months** Moonbyul had come to admire her imperfections.  _ I am the only one of me. I am Moonbyul. I am the only one.  _

_ Solar was passing, Eunae was passing, but Moonbyul was eternal.  _

_ I might as well be comfortable.  _

A therapist helped.

Moonbyul had made Solar the answer. Solar wouldn’t fix Moon or make everything perfect. It was unfair for Moon to place that on Solar’s shoulders.

The decision to date again didn’t come without its own type of stress. She’d done her best to ensure that Eunae wasn’t rubbed in Solars face, but Solar was strong, right?

Solar had to be everything Moonbyul wasn’t, so she should be fine with seeing Moons new girlfriend, right?

Things were light and easy between Eunae, Moonbyul never had to try very hard because she loved her so much. 

Eunae was quiet.

The thing Moon missed the most was Solars laughter. It was always loud and unforgiving and wonderful, but she didn’t hear it very much anymore.

And thinking of the two of them. Moon should apologize, right? Say her sorries for the mistakes she’d made, the ways she’d manipulated Solar.

Moon was a good person, Solar was a good person.

They just got so wrapped up in their own lives that being hurtful was an afterthought.

Late night, past closing as Moon finished up cleaning. She’d thought she was alone, the restaurant being closed for hours, only to be surprised when seeing a familiar face.

Solar.

Stone.

Eyes are dark and tired.

She still looks beautiful like this, still gives Moon’s butterflies.

Moon rugs off rubber gloves, tossing them to the side as she eyed Solar carefully. She remembers their first kiss, and their first almost kiss. “ Hey… “

Solar expects a question about paychecks, asking for a day off, the usual, but there’s something about the way Moon speaks that scares Solar.

“ Can we talk? ”

—

End of chapter 11

**A/N** : hello again ! i hope you enjoyed this chapter ! leave a ♥ if you did and a comment if you have any thoughts !! 


	12. The Office (part 2)

**TW**: sex scene

This was like a **dead zone**—white noise that cleared away everything else. Being in Solar’s office was nothing new, yet this time felt _different_. “It’s been, like, a year, right? .. since I _actually _met you? ” she sits in front of her boss, and even though one of them sits on the side of power, it’s no question who’s **really **in charge. 

Talking to a brick wall meant that Moonbyul had **all **of the leverage. But yes, around a year. Something like that, or _maybe _more? It’s all she can remember. Or wants to remember. The scar on her back had nearly faded by now, Solar’s mistakes with it. Everytime she thinks of her back she feels the etchings of Solar’s fingers. _Soft _and caring. Even when with her current lover, the ghost of Solar was still there. **Always lingering. **

“I never meant to hurt you.. Shouldn’t have taken advantage of how good you were to me.”

“ — you should be waiting for your girlfriend, _**right?**_” she hates how jealous the words sound coming from her mouth. I shouldn’t have said anything. 

“Does it matter? .. it’s not like we just broke up or anything.”

She’s wounded, clearly, jaw set. She doesn’t want to look at Moonbyul, embarrassed. Moon stands.

“ Do you _still _have feelings for me? You **shouldn’t **…”

Moon was dripping through the iv, slowly, drop by drop, giving back the soul she’d stolen from her elder. She runs her tongue over lower lip while tiptoeing around to Solar’s side of the desk. Her eyes are pleading, _look at me, love me love me **love me**_**,** but Solar keeps her gaze low. 

“Are you worried I think she’s _**prettier**_ than you? ..”

Nothing. Moon shows her dissatisfaction in the way she clicks her tongue. She raises a palm to lay on Solar’s shoulder, hoping that something would stir her stone princess.

She knows it’s **wrong**, knows she should care about the way she looked at Solar, that the_ lullied sensuality_ of her gaze was hurting a truly innocent woman, but Yongsun was dangerous like this. 

“ or are you just mad cause I fucked _her _and I wouldn’t fuck **you **.”

A glance upwards. Moon had cracked the shell, caught Solar’s gaze for a moment. A burning furiosity nearly glowing from the woman. Despite them both **knowing **better, despite how _untrue _Moonbyul’s words really were, in this moment it didn’t matter. Moon’s happiness is short lived, though, as her elder stood swiftly, shoving Moon backwards. 

Rage. Rage was **good**. It was more than the black and grayness of spakle that’d been slated over the woman she desired. Moonbyul offered herself up as prey, chin **raised**, _proud _to see the predator in Solar once again.

Baring teeth, how dare she rub her happiness in Solar’s face, “You’re such a_** fucking bitch**_—“

“— yeah, well, **do **something about it.” Moonbyul retorts, catching her balance, yet a smile graces lips.

There isn’t a second for _what_, **no **time to consider. They **both **know what this means. What ties would be broken and which would be formed, _**but I choose you. **_

She was angry. Solar was angry at everything. At Moonbyul, at herself. _Why wasn’t I enough for her? _Maybe this was Moon’s way of asking Yongsun to **prove herself. **

“... Do you want me to touch you?” Voice is gravely.

“I want _more _than just that.” Solar breathes out.

Regardless of Moonbyul’s call to action, she’s the one who moves forward first. She just barely presses lips to the other’s, teasing the shorter. Even with the vulgar words she’d shoved out, Moon still whispers a, “I **still **love you.” 

Solar backs up, but hands grab at the edge of Moon’s shirt, bringing her along until thighs press against her desk. She lets out a gasp, moonbyul laughing as her own hands moved to push things from Solar’s desk. 

Neither of them flinch at the clatter of objects, only focused on Moon standing between Solar’s thighs, wandering hands and lips that never part. Their heart is racing so fast. 

Maybe Moon had found release from months of pent up wanting, but now even the _slightest _touch has Solar needy, almost desperate. She wanted every part of Moonbyul, and to be denied this was a crime. This morning she’d regretted wearing a skirt this short, thought that even with the burn of the sun below it was too short, but now she’s thankful for the lack of fabric. The way that Moonbyul looks at her with even more lust than ever before as she helps Solar onto the desk, it’s almost addictive. She wanted Moonbyul to want her like this all of the time.

Her stomach sinks, licking lips and looking down at the dwindling space between them. And yet, even in her moment of triumph, she can’t rid her mind of moon’s **girlfriend**. Palms raise, grabbing at the nape of Moon’s neck, yanking _rough _at folicles “i **hate **you.”

“I _**know **_you do.”

Buttons can’t come undone fast enough, yanking at the fabric. The memory of Solar’s body had faded, she wanted a reminder. 

She hears the flittering bounce of buttons against the floor, smiles **proudly **at her work of art. Solar’s skirt pushed up to reveal black lace, and the pretty petals that surely lied underneath. Who did she wear these for? Moon’s unsure if it’s the budding jealousy or the thought of Solar wearing something so slutty just for herself, but she’s intrigued. “Do you dress like a **whore **_all _the time?” She’s never been called anything like that before, Solar never knew she’d like it this _much_. Moonybyul truly wanted to devour and destroy Solar, yet given a split second, and Solar reclaims dominance.

She pulls Moonbyul closer, lips pressed together hotly. Small hips wiggle, scooting closer. Only a few moments, but it feels like forever, whining her little _touch me, please_. The request is rewarded with a yank of Solar’s hair. It’s far harder than she’d expected, yet elicits this delicious moan from her lips. 

The moon can imagine all of the imprints to leave against the sun’s skin, matching bra hugging small breasts. _She’s so beautiful. _

This felt familiar, **too **familiar. It worries Solar for a moment, brings the fear that maybe Moon would break down again. “ _Are you sure?_” A nod, before the words can even finish falling from pink lips. The fabric of her blouse falls feather-like against her desk, back arched. She hesitates, foreheads pressed together and letting her eyes close for a second. “You can touch me, I promise…”

It’s slow for a second, yet the air between them doing nothing to slow the growing wetness between Solar’s thighs, but she obliges._ I love you so much_, she’s thinking. She can feel her eyes water, moved by the woman’s sacrifice of Skin. And **Love**. Solar’s careful about tugging Moon’s t-shirt off, letting her palms linger on love handles. Her skin was softer than Solar remembered. 

Moon’s garments lack the flashiness of Solar’s—even their most intimate pieces a reflection of status. And maybe that’s why they’re both so eager to remove the fabric. It’s only a second, a moment to refamiliarize. Solar, Seeing moon nearly whole for the first time, her fingers tiptoe curously against skin. Moon’s bashful, shaking head to cover her face with her hair, but solar pushes purple locks back. “You’re _beautiful_, **look **at yourself.” and Moon does, but can still admire Solar as infinitely More. She kisses her soft, almost a distraction as she pushed the elder’s underwear to the side.

Their lips only part when Solar lets out another high pitched groan, Moon’s thumb circling sentive area, pointer and middle resting just agains ther wetness. She reveled in the Knowing that she was wanted like this, but her sun is used to getting what she wanted. Hips rock against Moon’s fingers, head falling back. It gives the younger room to suck on skin, leaving purplish marks here and there. She wanted people to Know. To See what she’d done to her, marks that couldn’t be covered. 

“Please..” Solar begs, and Moon can’t afford to let her wait any longer. She slides digits in, working slow rhythm to wound the smaller up.

And perhaps it’s because it’d been so long, for after only a few moments shes gasping, swearing and gripping tight against Moon’s bicep as she came.

She can’t sit in her shame, almost embarassed that their moment hadn’t been as long as she’d liked, but her body was out of her control. chest heaving, eyes glossy and lost for a moment, all she can muster is a lazy kiss against Moonbyul’s neck. She doesn’t even see as her lover raised fingertips to suck on the remanants of Solar’s love. Hands stay busy, though, unbuckling dress pants and pushing palm down against Moon’s underwear. The fabric felt different than her bra, but that was Moon, mismatched, yet perfect.

She wants to push further, truly feel just how wet her woman was, taste Moonbyul on her fingertips, but feared that moving from this spot with shaking legs would leave her emabarrassed, and her manicure dictating that Moon’s panties stay in place. 

It takes only the slightest bit of friction for Moon to react, stepping closer, legs parted, though her and Solar differ. Solar’s moans, loud and shameless, Moonbyul determined to make her cum, but on the recieving end she blushes. Almost hiding her face, but bitting down on Solar’s shoulder to mask groans. “Tell me when you’re close, i wanna hear it.” Moonbyul nods silently, but leaves Solar wanting a better answer, so she pushes harder.

Nearly in sync, they both reach to play with breasts, Solar twisting and pulling m ore moans, Moon’s movements less dictated, falling out whenever Solar sent a particularly good rush through her body. And pauses fully when close.

It’s music, Moonbyul’s first with Solar, she doesn’t even get the chance to mumble more than, “fuck, baby, i’m…” before whimpering against her, holding on tight to her hips as she was blinded by the intensity of her orgasm. And all the while, Solar presses lips gently under Moon’s jaw.

Both breathing heavy, eyes half closed with the taste of eachother on their lips, they speak.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

  
  


—

End of chapter 12

**A/N:** i’m back again! Comments are appreciated ! look forward to the next chapter!


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